Another Time in Perim
by Quazer
Summary: I'm back. I never left. No matter how many times this world devours me, I've begun again each time. I have a future waiting for me, dangling just out of reach. Perim waits, bated breath in its starving maw, poised to tear me to pieces once again. It will have to go hungry, though. I won't go down, not without a fight. AU, rated M for violence and sexual content.
1. UnderWorld - Another Time

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

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_I had the urge to write again, about my time in the other world._

_Well, why don't you?_

_It's been years since I last wrote anything about it... I couldn't do it justice._

_Why not write about a more recent time?_

_Well, things kind of escalated since then, you know? It just seems like it'd be..._

_Unbelievable? You explore a vast fantasy world, experience incredible things, things that other people only dream of, and you're worried that people won't believe a little escalation?_

_Dream of? Seriously?_

_You know what I meant._

_Heh, I do. Yeah, it's worth a shot._

_Hey, can you do us a favor?_

_Sure, what is it?_

_Can we write part of it too?_

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_**Act I: UnderWorld**_

**Another Time**

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"My name is Michael."

I bend over into a low bow as I say those words, one arm behind my back and the other across my chest. I can feel my heart pounding, hear my pulse rise in my ears. The air is hot and dry, but my body feels like ice.

I steal a glance up at the beings before me. Three of them, one sitting, two others standing at his sides. One, a blue-scaled lizardman, lithe yet muscular, with a mane of red spikes and tan scales down his chest and stomach. The other, an orange-skinned demoness, dark red hair disappear behind a pair of red, bat-like wings, a crest of horns on her head, and talons like a raptor. Agitos and Takinom, the advisors and champions of the leader of this land I've found myself in.

Seated on a throne between those two is the beast himself. Red skin lined with massive veins stretched across a chest and stomach so heavy with muscle that it seems ready to split with an unchecked flex. A head like a demon's and a dragon's, sharp chin, wide jaw, yellowed teeth where lips should be. Blue featureless eyes with a piercing glow, and forward-swept horns the same color. Thick tail draped over one arm of the massive throne he sits on. Chaor, King of the UnderWorld.

I'm counting down. Two hundred left.

While the expressions of confusion and shock are stiff fresh on the faces of my unwitting hosts, I straighten back up and continue my speech. "My deepest apologies for this intrusion. If I had been given the choice, I would not have invaded your privacy like this. Please accept my most humble apologies." I bow again, but not as low this time. I need to see how they react.

Chaor does not immediately rise from his throne. He does, however, grind chunks of stone off the arm of his throne as his massive clawed hand grips it tightly. Agitos quietly slinks to the side, away from his lord and out of potential lines of fire. Takinom steps forward, hands arched and, teeth bared. There are no words, though. I have stolen the first questions on their minds right out of their mouths, who are you, why are you here, before they even had to chance to think of them.

Time passes. One hundred fifty counts remain.

Chaor rises from his seat, his arms thankfully at his sides rather than raised to attack. He steps forward, one fur-cuffed metal boot hitting the stone floor with a clack, then the other. He folds his arms across his chest, narrows his eyes at me, and inhales deeply. He finally speaks, and his voice is tense with the threat of death.

"Michael."

He seems to taste my name in his mouth, blue tongue drifting across the gap between his teeth as he draws out the last sound. He sneers down at me as he drags the claws on one hand down the spiked bracer on his other arm. A spiked brow rises, and he continues, "Your name sounds strange, creature. What are you? Where are you from?"

I force myself not to turn my eyes away from his. My nails on both hands are digging into my palms, my pulse is raging in my ears.

One hundred counts.

"I'm a Human." Pause. Breathe. "I and my kind are from a world far away from this one, a planet we call Earth."

An irritated scowl darkens Chaor's face, and I lower my face away from his piercing glare. "Indeed," he mutters, and he moves to sit down again, his fur loincloth rippling as his legs and flesh shift beneath it. "What do you think of this 'Human'?" he asks to the creatures near him.

Agitos creeps back to his spot beside Chaor. "He looks similar to some of those in the OverWorld," he spits with an accusing tone. "You must keep in mind the possibility of this being a brazen spying attempt."

Takinom relaxes her posture and tilts her head to the side, resting a pointed finger against her cheek. "And yet, what this creature has accomplished is both beyond the abilities of the OverWorld and too foolish to be one of their schemes. Appearing directly before you and announcing himself, it does not fit at all."

A moment of silence. Thirty.

Chaor leans on the arm of his throne closest to Takinom and rests the angle of his jaw against his open palm. "Very strange indeed," he huffs, nostrils flaring as he exhales sharply. After a moment, he turns his head ever so slightly in Takinom's direction, and the glow of his eyes shift as they move, looking to her instead of at me. "We need more answers..."

And that's ten. Nine. Eight.

I turn, already leaning into my sprint, and race toward the large doors leading out of the throne room. I hear a cry of alarm from Agitos, but to look now- no, focus. Left foot and right arm out, right foot and left arm out, echoes of my footfalls around me. I'm still counting, three, two, one.

The doors burst open in front of me, revealing a group of creatures in spiked plate armor, red like rust. "Lord Chaor!" cries out the soldier in the lead.

My right arm is swinging forward. I reach forward like I am about to grab the creature's face. He notices me with a start and slams to a halt. The soldiers behind him do not notice, and there's a crash as metal strikes metal, and the lead creature takes a step forward, bracing himself. He raises his arms to shield his face as his companions stagger around him.

I push hard with my planted foot, turning my dash into a leap. My foot connects with the creature's armored knee, and I step high, my next footfall landing in the valley of his crossed arms. Cries of alarm and distress ring out below me as I launch myself over the ones unknowingly responsible for my escape route, and I brace myself for the landing on the far side.

"Catch that man!" Chaor bellows somewhere behind me.

I hit the ground, and a jolt runs up my leg. I've landed poorly, but I can't dwell on that right now. I sprint away as fast as my legs can take me, and I round a corner to the left the moment I find an opening.

Heated air and a stench of smoke fill the hall behind me, and Chaor's roar reverberates down the corridors. "Do not kill him, you idiots! Capture him!"

The noises get further away as I run, but not quickly enough. The walls are a blur. I'm following a path I can't see, only remember.

As some of you might have guessed, this isn't my first time doing this. I've run through this section of Perim, of this hostile slice of UnderWorld, more times than I care to try to count. Some attempts end quickly and painfully, others seem to drag for ages.

Time to see if I can survive another time in Perim.

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**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	2. Search

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

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**Search**

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The first hours after Humans arrive on Perim are chaos. Some Humans have a level enough head to not panic, some lash out in panic, and many of them freeze in terror. The natives of Perim are no different, with action and inaction in equal measure.

I can hear the roar of violence drift in through the windows as I collapse to the ground. Soldiers bellowing orders, Humans screaming, cracks of weapon fire. I curl up, cover my ears, and focus on the sounds of my pulse and my breaths. I can't do anything for anyone outside right now, I can only focus on myself. I've never learned exactly how many die on this first day each time this all starts over, and I doubt I ever will.

My hiding place is crude, a small hollow between two walls, long-forgotten over centuries of renovations, long before Chaor gave this fortress city its drab name, UnderWorld City. Its entrance is practically invisible from the outside, a single large stone that swings on a hinge, one among many others. Perhaps servants once used to place for a brief rest between their duties, out of sight and out of mind. It's cold and dim, the only light coming from a crack in the far wall from the exit. There's not enough height to stand, nor enough space to lie flat.

I haven't finished catching my breath when I roll to a sitting position. I undo the laces of my right shoe and gingerly slide it off, then push my sock down to my heel and carefully feel my ankle. No discoloration, not particularly tender. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Good, even a sprain would cause tremendous problems with the short time I have available.

My mad dash earlier would have gone much smoother at an earlier time. While not at all a champion of physical fitness, my twenty-three-year-old body was at least energetic and somewhat in shape. I'd let myself go in the years since then, and now at thirty, I'm paying for my lack of discipline.

I lean back against the cold stone wall and silently laugh at myself. My chest hurts from the effort, and I can feel my throat threaten to swell shut. All this time I've spent in Perim, all these years I've lived, centuries by this point, and I'm still worrying about how old my body is. I'm not sure if it's the adrenaline wearing off or the absurdity of my situation, but it's just. Too. Funny.

Okay, that's enough laughing. Time to take stock. I pick up my shoe in my hands and look it over. Shoes with laces, I haven't worn a pair of those in over a year, and yet once again I arrive in Perim wearing them. White socks, material unknown. Gray shirt, blue jeans, fancy black belt. Those at least I owned back on Earth. My pockets are empty, save for a small knot of lint at the bottom of each.

Okay, physical inventory is complete. Disappointing. I was hoping that I'd manage to bring at least something with me this time around. Now to see what else I might have managed this time around.

I close my hand around the ball of lint and squeeze it. I stare at where I know it is. Right now it is a clump of thread, fiber, and dye, but it could be so much more. As I focus on the point, the piece of existence, I begin the test.

Lucid dreaming is the art of maintaining your awareness while you sleep. If fully lucid, a dreamer can perform impossible actions, from the relatively mundane such as flight and incredible feats of strength to the outright fantastical such as creation, destruction, and the shaping of the world itself. Some people are naturally talented at this, and they spend every night with the powers of a god. Others never experience this phenomenon, with their every night an indistinct memory, if even that.

My ears ring, a numbness crawls across my skin, and nausea rises from my gut as I stare at my clenched fists. I feel as if I might lose myself at any moment when I look away and relax my concentration, and the sensations slowly fade. My eyes feel heavy, and there's a weight on my chest. I rest my hand against my lap and, hesitantly, I open it.

In my palm is a ball of lint.

I sigh and flick the small ball into the corner of my hiding space. Of course, it didn't work. Still, better to check each time. The one time you don't try and it turns out it would have worked, you'll be kicking yourself all the rest of the way to your destination.

I slowly maneuver to my hands and knees until my face is near the exit to this cramped space. I press my ear against the stone and close my eyes, trying to slow my heart and my breath so I can tell if anyone is in the hallway beyond. A few tense minutes pass, and I'm certain I'm alone.

I crawl out, slide the secret door closed, then stretch out the knots in my muscles. The hallway is empty, but I still have little time. The UnderWorlders will still be searching for me, and the longer I wait, the fewer pathways I'll have available to me. Every exit from the palace will be blocked and watched by now, and it's only a matter of time until I'm caught. How fortunate that I'm not looking to escape just yet.

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The many hallways of this palace are all alike. Not to say that they're identical, just that, without a map, it would be easy to lose yourself in them for a lack of obvious landmarks. However, with a map, or at least the memory of one, you can at least get to a specific place.

My specific place is a lonely stretch of hallway. Tapestries line the walls, depicting creatures, places, and events. I've seen them many times over the lifetimes, enough that I know exactly where the one I'm looking for is. The most recent addition to these walls of history is a monument to Chaor's ego, a portrait of him many times larger than life posed in a dramatic roar, flaming weapons in each hand, body nude to show off his sweating muscular body and have his engorged masculinity in an obvious display.

I take a deep breath, bounce on the balls of my feet a little, and flex and relax my fingers. Then I grab a fistful of expensive thread by its edge and begin to scale the wall. One foot braced against the wall, another handful of tapestry, the other foot, another handful. Don't think about how high you're going. Foot, hand, foot, hand.

Partway up, I pause. I hear footsteps. I have minutes, maybe less. Time enough to reach my goal, or should I drop and try again when whoever it is has passed? No, my landing will make too much sound, surely this place will be put under guard. I don't know of anywhere else that has what I need. I climb again, faster now.

I'm level with Chaor's hips on the tapestry now, but I'm too far to the left. What I'm looking for is behind the cloth, closer to the middle. I take a breath to fight down the dizziness, then carefully turn around so I'm facing the back of the tapestry. Feet against the wall, reach as far as I can with my left hand and grab a hold. Left foot out and planted, right foot follows, right hand meets the left. Repeat. Repeat. Holy crap I'm high up. I pass the fuzzy outline of Chaor's fist in the image, now crossing the threads that depict his body.

I stop and place my left hand against the wall, feeling around. There, in a groove between stones, a small object, like a marble. I dig a finger into the mortar surrounding it and begin scraping its anchoring away.

"Who is up there?" a gruff voice calls out from the ground, toward the end of the hallway. "No use hiding, I can see where you are!"

As if I was trying to hide. What, like people are just going to overlook a wiggling extra bulge on Chaor's tapestry? I don't answer. Instead, I focus on my digging efforts.

"You have until the count of three, then I am taking you down myself! One!"

A soft crack, and it's come loose. I bring the object in front of me. A small bead, it looks like it's made of crystal. Just what I'm looking for.

"Two!"

I'm out of time. I grit my teeth, clench my eyes shut, and shove the crystal up my left nostril. Small pieces of leftover mortar scratch as I push it in, and I feel tears leaking from my eyes.

"Three!"

It's wedged, not coming out any time soon. I yank my finger out of my nose and-

Lights dance in my vision as something collides with my body from the other side of the tapestry. My stomach is rising into my chest. Falling. I've lost my grip-

I'm on the ground. There's a high-pitched ringing in my ears. Something is wrapped around my neck. There's a blurry figure above me. I blink away the stars.

A bull's face atop a muscular humanoid body glares down at me. One of his three-fingered hands is raised next to his face, clenched into a fist, and his other arm reaches down to below my face. He's got me by the throat. His orange skin is contrasted by his long blue hair, dangling around his face. A thin necklace threaded with long with teeth dangles between our faces. It's Rothar. He's not happy.

"I've got the intruder!" Rothar shouts, not taking his eyes off me.

I reach up and grab his wrist in a daze. It's a thoughtless, useless action, I'm not going to be able to get him off me.

Voices sound in the distance. "Disable him! Chaor wants him alive!"

Rothar grunts, "Understood," and he spreads apart the fingers of his raised hand. A twisting a flesh, and instead of fingers are three writhing serpents, mouths open and fangs dripping. A blur of movement, and there's a stinging pain in my shoulder, followed by a spreading numbness.

The bull-man releases me as the venom does its work. I feel my body getting heavy. Rothar stands up and looks off to the side, at something out of my field of view.

A voice from somewhere, it sounds so far away. "Are we to take him to the Pit?" If there's an answer, I don't hear it.

As the world fades away around me, I feel the corners of my cheeks lift in a grin. With the last conscious control I have, I mutter a phrase, softly enough that I hope none of the creatures standing around me can hear...

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**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	3. Chains

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

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**Chains**

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The first thing I'm aware of is hard metal around my wrists, ankles, and neck.

I'm laying on my side, and there's a slight weight on me. I'm lying on something soft. At least, softer than I'd expected. I try to move, but my arms are restrained, attached behind my back. Manacles? I open my eyes. My left eye is met with brown cloth, while my right eye sees the fabric of the pillow I'm lying on. The wall in front of me is made of stone, like every other wall in this godforsaken place. There's a lit torch sitting in a sconce in the corner, maybe a foot higher than where my mattress rests against the wall.

"Ah, you are awake."

The voice is coming from behind me. There's a clatter of chains near the back of my head, and my throat closes up as I'm yanked upwards by the neck. I kick at the mattress, trying to catch my body up with the tugging on my metal collar as it hoists me to a sitting position, to the sound of another set of chains near my feet. The thick blanket that was covering me rips away, and the chill of the dungeon air hits me all at once.

To my right, a hunched figure wraps the end of a chain around a hook in the wall with one hand, while the other pulls the blanket the rest of the way off the bed. Blue scales, a red mane of spikes- Agitos? Chaor's advisor bundles up the blanket and drops it in a heap under the hook, then lifts a torch out of its sconce, opposite the one I'd seen first.

"Michael, you called yourself," Agitos mutters loudly as he presses the torch against another spot on the wall, which blazes with flame as well. "Human, you called your kind." He lights more torches along the walls as he speaks, and it becomes clear to me that the walls are completely lined with them.

Agitos is silent as he lights the rest of the torches, and I take the opportunity to glance around. One the left stone wall, below the row of torches, is a short door made of bars. The far wall is, again, stone, but with a mirror of sorts set into it, the reflection becoming more clear as the lights grow brighter. Below the mirror sits a stool, and flanking the stool are two small tables, one carrying a pitcher and a plate of... something mushy, and the other carrying... my clothing, folded haphazardly.

"What is with you UnderWorlders and stripping your prisoners naked," I growl as I vainly attempt to fold my legs up to my chest, thwarted by the chains keeping my feet close to the end of the bed.

"It is easier to search a nude body," Agitos says matter-of-factly as he replaces his torch in its sconce. "There are many places to hide things, in clothing and elsewhere."

Agitos turns away from me and heads for the stool. I close my mouth and take a quick breath through my nose. My breath passes only through one nostril. I try hard not to sigh in relief. The didn't find it.

Agitos sits on the stool and looks at me, his face difficult to read. "Then there is the fact that you feeling vulnerable is exactly what I want right now. Speak to me plainly, and I might decide to return your effects to you."

I'm a little thrown off by all of this. I was expecting some of this yes. The chains, the cell, an interrogator, that I've dealt with before. This particular cell? The mirror? The torches? Not to mention Agitos himself. That's new. Not to say new things haven't happened before, the slightest change can have dramatically different effects. I can't recall what I've done differently this time to end up like this, though.

Agitos tilts his head to the side a little. "Are you comfortable? Need anything?" He gestures to the platter beside him. "There is food and drink if you desire."

Suddenly I realize that I'm parched, but I say nothing. I'm not certain that I can trust whatever is in that pitcher. Though, if they wanted to poison or drug me, they could easily have done so earlier...

I swallow my paranoia. "Water would be good."

The corner of Agitos's mouth twitches upwards. "The best I can offer is this." He stands up and lifts the pitcher. I can hear it slosh around as he brings it to me, it sounds maybe half full. He puts the rim to my lips and tilts the vessel up.

The fluid is sour and burns my throat, and I cough up most of my first mouthful. Dark violet liquid spills down my front, but Agitos keeps pouring. I quickly try to swallow the rest, but even then most of it leaks out and makes a mess of my body and surroundings. Agitos abruptly pulls the pitcher away and takes it back with him. I gag on the aftertaste. Wine of some kind.

"You know what we are called," Agitos says as he sits down. "Explain."

Ah, I'd called him an UnderWorlder moments ago. It honestly had just slipped from my mouth, but no harm done there. "There's this game back on Earth called Chaotic. Game and a show. It's set in Perim and features many of its inhabitants."

"Hm."

I expected accusations of mockery. I expected shock or surprise. I expected a dismissal or anything in response to my unbelievable statement. Instead, that was all Agitos had done. Said "hm". What in the world is going on?

After a long, uncomfortable pause, Agitos breaks the silence. "Are you certain you need nothing else? It would not do to let your needs go unmet. As I said, there is food available." His gaze briefly lowers, and the corner of his mouth twitches upward again. "If you have a different hunger that needs sating, the palace's harem is staffed with many experienced servants. At least one should be to your taste."

"I'll manage without, thanks," I mumble. I feel a heat rising in my cheeks.

"You prefer the company of Human women, then?" Agitos leans back and spreads his arms out, an elbow on each table beside him. "It may take some time, but I am certain that a few will be added to the harem in time. Or perhaps it would be more to your taste to break in a virgin?"

"Shut up."

The silence is deafening. The volume of my voice startled me. Agitos doesn't even flinch, though. He just presses his thin lips together and nods slowly.

Something is up. Agitos is not acting as I'm expecting him to. Twice now he's made offers to me, with only one question between them. He's taking my statements far too easily, and that calm expression of his has only budged with small grins.

I look past Agitos, trying to get a look at my reflection. My front is dripping with wine. My hair is a mess. I look... uninjured. I'm uninjured. I don't have any aches or soreness. On my shoulder, where Rothar's vipers bit me, no sign of redness, no puncture marks. None that I can see with that mirror anyway.

My heart is hammering. That's why Agitos is acting this way. He's spoken to me before. He's not repeating our conversation the way I repeat lives, just in the relatively mundane way of making me forget our previous conversations. I have no way of knowing how long this has been going on. How long would it take for that bite to heal?

The wine. My stomach seizes up. Unless my memory was removed through magical means, then drugging the wine would be the way he'd have caused it. Something to block the formation of memories, stopping short-term to long-term.

"Well," Agitos sighs, his head tilting to the side again, "if there is nothing else you wish for right this moment, then we can continue with my questions."

I vomit.

Agitos watches as I heave, violet liquid spraying my mouth and drenching the sheets. His expression doesn't shift, except for the smallest of twitches as some droplets come dangerously close to hitting him.

It's too late anyway... Whatever drug he used is undoubtedly in my system already, as early as that first mouthful of wine that I coughed up.

"Are you finished?" Agitos drones, a bored tone to his voice. "We have many things to discuss."

That infuriating little lizard. "Why don't you look at your notes?" I spit. "I've answered your questions enough times before."

Agitos closes his eyes and smiles. He leans against the table carrying my clothing, rests his jaw against his hand, and raises his other hand slightly, palm up. "He noticed even faster this time than the last. Otherwise, the Human's behaviors and actions have been completely consistent. There is no reason to believe that the answers to any of our questions have changed. Is there any reason to continue?"

He's not talking to me. The mirror. With all the light in here, the glass would not show what was in a dark room beyond it. That's why there are so many torches. Someone is back there, observing us.

A high-pitched, scratchy voice sounds from behind Agitos, beyond the pane of glass. "No! I need more data! We must discover-!"

"Silence, Ulmar," a darker voice interjects. Chaor's voice. "This has gone on long enough."

Lights brighten the room beyond the window. Ulmar, a small gremlin-like creature with an exposed brain, glares at me with large red eyes. Towering behind him is Chaor's familiar form. Chaor shoves his mad scientist aside and steps closer to the glass. "Unchain him, Agitos, and take him to the baths."

"At once, Your Majesty," Agitos says as he stands and bows toward the window. Then he turns to me, grins, and lifts the pitcher of wine. "Nothing to fear, Human," he says before taking a swig of its contents. He wipes his mouth and continues, "I switched drinks."

Ulmar screeches at Agitos through the window while the latter unchains me. I rub my wrists and neck as I cautiously get up from the bed. "Why-"

Agitos raises a hand in front of my face. "Human, you stink. You are wet with wine and your own vomit, and an odor beyond that has begun to cling to you over the past few days. The only thing that would prevent me from bringing you to the baths would be Chaor's direct order not to." He scoops up my clothing, then pauses. "Or the opportunity to slit your throat and dump you with the rest of the sewage," he adds with a toothy grin.

I say nothing else as I duck under the cell door and follow Agitos down the hall.

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**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	4. Exposed

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

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**Exposed**

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Chaor has a room with a recessed tub, practically a pool, on the ground floor of his palace. Pipes carry water through a heater and into this tub, one of all of Perim's few plumbing systems. More pipes in the walls of the tub can pump air into the water, making the entire system one enormous jacuzzi. Troughs filled with stones line the walls of the room itself, and below those are small alcoves where fires can be lit.

Agitos smirks at my expression when we stop in front of the massive doors to that room. "His Majesty offers the use of his private facilities," he says with a bow. "A small step toward restitution for the poor accommodations thus far."

I want to ask him what the catch is, but my retort dies in my throat. This is yet another unexcepted event to pile on top of all the rest. I hear a small muttering of thanks come out of my mouth while I'm trying to put my head back on straight.

I reach for my clothing, but Agitos tucks them under his arm. "Your belongings will wait for you in the room you will be staying in. Now, enjoy yourself. Oh, and don't drown yourself." With that final remark, he opens the way to the bath, pushes me through, and closes the door behind me.

The heat and steam are like a slap in the face, knocking back to my senses, but too late to do anything about it. I push and pull against the exit, but nothing budges. I call out to Agitos. No answer.

Focus, Michael, focus. You've let all this get to you. Yes, nothing makes sense, but nothing made any sense back when this nonsense all started lifetimes ago. Just take a deep breath and take inventory again.

...Oh, right. I have nothing.

I scream into the empty room for a bit. It accomplishes nothing, but I feel better. A little bit, anyway. Well, if I'm stuck in here for the moment, I might as well put the room to use. I carefully feel the water with one foot and, after determining that it's not quite hot enough to boil me alive, slowly lower myself in.

For the moment, I can pretend I'm not in the UnderWorld. It's deeper than one back on Earth, but in the end, it's just a giant jacuzzi. I delay my initial plan of immediately scrubbing myself and just lay back in the bubbling water, floating along the surface. Floating as well as I can, anyway. Eh, unimportant. I just need to relax.

My mind continues wheeling away, though. I can't stop wondering. What did I do wrong? Or, not wrong, different. It's not wrong unless it kills me, and this hasn't killed me quite yet. I replay the first moments of this life back in my head. I preempted the soldiers arriving, but I've done that before with little issue. I've gotten caught plenty of times, to the point that, were I thrown in the Pit like I usually am, I know exactly how to butter up the guards to get special treatment and, eventually, an early release.

To the best of my knowledge, this is simply a quirk of fate, circumstances, and choices all leading exactly to a completely different result than I'd expected. I probably couldn't get this exact thread of fate again if I tried to. Regardless, my goal is still the same-

My thoughts are interrupted by the muffled sound of the doors opening. Has it been long enough that they expect me to be done? I tread water enough to right myself and look toward the exit.

Chaor's silhouette stands at the doorway, eyes shining blue.

I flail in the water before remembering how to swim, and I make my way to the far side of the tub. I scramble out, coughing up water, and crawl into a corner, as far away as I can.

Chaor closes the door behind him. I hear the deep clicks of his hooves on the floor as he approaches until he's close enough to the firelight from the shelves for me to see him easily. His skin already shines in the light, slick from the spray and steam, and he's wearing nothing at all.

I realize my hands are covering my mouth. What's the point? Even if he didn't see me, he knows I'm here. I don't drop them, though. I'm frozen in place. I even feel the chill, despite the oppressive heat of the air around me.

Chaor steps into the water and sits down, causing waves of displaced water to spill over the edges and across the floor. The glow of his eyes vanish as he closes them, and he leans back and lets himself sink further into the water. Columns of steam rise from the sides of his mouth.

Chaor scares me, and I feel it's for good reason. Most of my lifetimes that start in the UnderWorld end at his hands.

The tub is deep enough that I can't stand at the bottom of its deepest point, and if I stand on the seat around its edge, the water reaches up to my hips. Chaor, sitting on that same spot, has to slouch into the water for it to reach the bottom of his pectorals, to put the massive difference in size in perspective. It goes without saying that he's a tremendous deal stronger than I am, and that isn't even getting into his various supernatural abilities.

After what feels like hours, Chaor lifts his head and looks in my direction. He rises, and my heart hammers faster as he begins to approach. He lifts himself up and sits on the edge of the tub, next to me, then reaches his enormous hand out to me. I press myself further into the corner as if somehow I could melt into the walls, away from the giant about to grab me.

Chaor tousles my hair with two fingers, and his chest heaves as he laughs. "Do you find me intimidating, Michael?"

"Terrifying, sir," I squeak.

If the grin Chaor is giving me is supposed to be comforting, it isn't working. He pats the tub's edge beside him and says, "Come here."

I slowly crawl over. Despite his attempt at a friendly tone, Chaor's every word has a hint of a threat behind it. I lower my feet into the water, but the heat is no longer pleasant.

Chaor lifts one leg out of the water and turns toward me, placing his hoof on the floor behind me. I feel surrounded. That has to be deliberate on Chaor's part. Even when presenting an amicable face, he must be the most powerful one in the room.

Chaor leans his face closer to mine. "I wanted to talk. Not an interrogation, just a simple man to man conversation." Those last words are emphasized with Chaor pointing first at his own chest, then poking mine. The force almost knocks me over.

"Okay..." I rub my chest and try not to wheeze. "...So... What did you have in mind?" I realize my voice is still shaking, but I can't help it.

Chaor puts his hand back on his far leg. "To start with, how many times have you suddenly appeared in my palace before today?"

Ice shoots through my body again. I stare up at Chaor's face, mouth open to speak, but nothing comes out. I try to ask what he means or imply that he's mistaken, but my voice is as frozen as my blood.

Chaor grins. "Too many to count, yes? Your words then were practiced." He leans further down until his nose is against my neck, and he inhales deeply. "You smelled of fear just as much back then, but your voice was steady, your actions smooth. It was practically art how you escaped back then as if everything had lined up exactly as you had planned."

My heart is in my throat, trying to fly screaming from my mouth. "I-I was just-"

Chaor pulls back and laughs again. "There is no use in denying it. I had you observed for days, your every action and reaction recorded. When you were put through what any other intruder would be put through, you were rational, prepared. Each time we put you through Ulmar's experiments, through events further and further beyond what was normal, you behaved more and more as you do now." Another grin. "Like a mewling pup, taken too soon from its mother."

I don't have a strong enough word for how deep the pit in my stomach feels. "I-I thought this wasn't supposed to be an interrogation."

Chaor stares at me a moment, then grins. "True, I did say that. Then let us talk of other things." He lifts up the leg behind me and puts it back into the water, and I can feel myself breathe again. He leans backward, elbows on the ground and fists at his waist. "Humans are an interesting lot. I have seen so many of you by now. You all look so similar, but are so different when you really get into what is inside." Chaor turns his head a puts on a toothy grin. "Almost exactly the same when it comes to your literal insides, though."

I try not to think about the implications of that last bit. "Does anyone, in particular, stand out?" I force out.

Chaor puts his head back until he's looking at the ceiling. "Besides you, you mean? Yes. A woman. Maria."

Finally. Something that hasn't changed. "Oh?"

Chaor grits his teeth. "She is rallying other Humans around her. They look up to her as a leader, pushing back against my efforts to have them fall in line. Her tongue is sharp and her heart is hard, nothing seems to scare her."

I had been doing my best not to look this whole time, but as Chaor speaks about Maria, it's impossible for me not to notice his growing arousal.

"Stubborn, unreasonable woman," Chaor growls. "So many demands. Courageous though. She has a bigger pair of balls than half my army."

I burst out laughing. I had forgotten that Chaor was fond of that phrase. When I look back up, I see Chaor's glowing eyes narrow at me, and I quickly spit out, "I'm sorry, it's just, the image that evoked..."

Chaor glares at me a while longer, then sighs and looks back up at the ceiling. "If this keeps up, I might have to recognize her as the leader of the Humans. Not now, though." Chaor closes his eyes and sighs. "Several solans time, if she does not bend her knee..."

I realize that I have a bizarre and unique opportunity, a chance to change maybe one thing that, in the long run, will probably make no difference. At least if it does work, one thing that has irked me these lifetimes will be different now. "Wow," I breath, with what I hope is a wondering look on my face, "she sure sounds like a Lilith."

Chaor turns to look at me. "A what?"

I lean forward a little. I can feel the ice leaving my body. "Oh, a woman from one of Earth's creation myths. God formed the first man and woman out of clay, and he named them Adam and Lilith. Lilith refused to be Adam's lesser, so another woman was made from Adam's rib and called Eve. Modern popular culture tends to portray her as the first demon, or something like that."

Chaor looks as if he's looking through me. "Lilith," he whispers with a grin. He leans back and repeats the name a few times. One of his hands wanders to between his legs, and a purr rumbles from his chest as he begins massaging his manhood.

I'm not sure how long it is before I realize that I'm staring at Chaor's performance. I honestly shouldn't be surprised at his lack of shame, but all the same, it's still a shock. I tear my eyes away and see Chaor's eyes on me, a wide smirk on his face. I look down quickly, and I'm certain I'm blushing in mortification.

I hear the water splash beside me, and I let out an undignified whimper as I feel Chaor's hands grab my torso from either side. "Look at you," Chaor chuckles. "Have you never bathed before? Let me help you out there."

Chaor places me on his lap- or rather, atop his still-firm- no, don't think about it- and he slides back into the water before working his fingers and claws across my skin. The rest of the bath passes by silently, me a humiliated doll being washed in Chaor's grasp.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	5. Force

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Force**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Chaor doesn't use towels. I guess when you're able to create fire and heat at will, you find it easier, or more sensible, or maybe just more fun to heat your own body until you begin to steam. I don't have that option, so I simply wait, dripping wet and shivering while Chaor instructs a pair of servants to drain the tub and clean the room.

"You must be starving," Chaor says to me as the servants scurry off. "I will have dinner sent to you." His smile vanishes, and he adds, "You are not so foolish as to attempt another escape, are you?"

Now I'm shivering for another reason. "Loud and clear," I nod. And now that he's mentioned it, I can feel my stomach aching. "Er, I don't know where my room is, though."

Chaor's smile reappears as quickly as it has left. "No doubt you know the palace well, correct?" When I nod, he continues, "Good. Go to my chambers. If anyone stops you, tells them that I sent you."

I'm staying in Chaor's bedroom? Dozens of possible meanings spin through my mind while I process this.

Chaor crouches in front of me and chuckles at my expression. "Only the greatest of luxuries for you from now on, Michael." He takes a hold of my shoulders, turns me away from him, and gives me a gentle push. "Nothing to be concerned about. Now, run along."

I start walking without thinking, and I hear Chaor heading in the other direction. I shake my head and give my cheeks a couple of light slaps. "Pull yourself together," I whisper.

The long trek to Chaor's room gives me time to think. This whole series of events feels somewhat similar to my eleventh time in Perim. Chaor had made me his pet and lugged me around everywhere, showing me off to everyone. This time, though, he seems more concerned for me, in his strange, selfish way, anyway. I'm being treated like a person, not an animal or an object. I briefly wonder whether staying in the UnderWorld would be so bad under these circumstances, but no. I have plans. I want- no, I need to get out of here.

Huh, actually, something about one of those last thoughts isn't quite true. I wasn't a person at the beginning, I was an experiment. They've spent days observing me, according to Chaor. I don't have a way to know how many days it has been since I arrived in Perim this time, because I don't remember any of the experiments Ulmar put me through.

I rub the side of my nose, aware of the blockage I had put there. Because of those missing days...

"I'm out of sync with my escape plan," I say aloud, but quietly enough so nobody can overhear me. "I'm not where I wanted to be, and I don't think I'll be able to get there."

Silence. Of course, it's not like I was expecting an answer-

"You there, stop."

I'm jolted out of my thoughts by those words and the feeling of something against my chest. A spear's point. I look up to see two figures encased in rust-colored armor, both pointing spears in my direction. Past them is the door to Chaor's room.

"Chaor sent me," I blurt as I step back and put my hands up.

A chuckle echoes out from under the helmet of the further suit of armor. "Oh, did he now? And why would he send us a Human?"

"No, I mean-"

The closer figure snaps his spear up to my throat and presses it forward a little. "Shut up."

I comply. Of course, there would be complications.

"Say..." The further figure lowers his spear, and his helmet tilts to the side a little. "I think this Human is the same one that was in Chaor's throne room."

"Is he now?" the other one wonders. "Ah, he is! I wondered where that little jumper had gone off to." He snickers and drags the tip of his spear down my body. "Gotten yourself stripped naked, have you?"

The first soldier puts a hand on his companion's shoulder. "He owes us, right? Bruised our pride, you did, escaping off the top of us."

I take a step back. "Sorry about that-"

A blur of movement, and stars in my vision. I feel something grab my hair. My head is in splitting pain, and I feel blood trickle down the side of my face.

"Not going to cut it!" a helmeted face roars past the dancing lights in my vision. "Lift him up, will you?"

A pair of hard metal arms wrap around my arms and waist and hoists me up. "Let go!" I shout, squirming and flailing my legs.

"Shut him up," says the creature in front of me, and one arm shifts as a metal gauntlet clasps itself around my mouth and nose. I shake my head, trying to free myself, but I'm just no match for these creatures. The creature in front of me drops his spear to the side and, to my horror, begins undoing the straps that hold the armor on his legs in place. "My friend and I are going to take turns with you. You might get to keep your head afterward if you stay compliant."

The creature holding me growls, "Cause too much trouble and your neck goes crack." He twists my head to the side slowly, as if illustrating his point. "We can just as easily reap our dues filling up a corpse."

I freeze. I've been in this position before, but it never gets easier. I want to scream. I want to beg. I can't talk my way out of this.

He's spitting into his hand. The other guy is taunting me. My legs are being lifted up, and he's close enough that I can see the red glow of his eyes under his helmet. I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Just what do you think you are doing?"

I've never been so relieved to hear Chaor's voice before.

"My lord!" The armored creatures release me to stand at attention, and I hit the ground hard. "We caught the escaped Human, sir, and-"

Chaor steps forward, eyes blazing blue. He's got his loincloth back on, though nothing else. Not that he needs anything else to be terrifying. "It looks to me like the two of you were going to harm my guest."

The soldiers go rigid. "Your guest? N-no! Not at all! Just a little scare, right?"

"Silence!"

The hallway goes dead quiet. Heat is radiating from Chaor's body, and steam, or maybe smoke, is rising from his nostrils. He points at each soldier in turn. "If I hear a word from either of you before morning, I will strangle you with your own intestines.

There's no reply from either soldier, just the clatter of metal from their armor as they shake where they stand. Chaor shoves them apart as he steps up to me, and he lifts me up from the ground. "I should have realized that there was a chance that you would encounter trouble," he growls as he holds me to his chest. "I should not have taken my eyes off of you."

I'm too shaken to answer. I simply lie in Chaor's arm and shiver while he steps into his room.

The bed creaks as Chaor sits down on it. "Everything is going to be fine, Michael," he says as he puts me down on the mattress. He lays down beside me, wraps an arm around my body and pulls me close. He curls around me, legs pulling up to my back, arms holding me tight against his chest and stomach. His tough skin is warm, as is his breath against my neck.

It's been too much. I bury my face into Chaor's chest, and my lungs begin to heave. Chaor squeezes me gently with his body as I sob. "I will make certain that nothing ever harms you again."

Eventually, I stop crying, too exhausted to think. I drift into an uneasy sleep, wrapped up in Chaor's warm yet terrifying embrace.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	6. Anger

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Anger**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

There's this... sound...

Bump, thump... Bump, thump...

It's coming from nearby... Something firm, but warm... Below me, lying on something soft...

Bump, thump... Bump, thump...

I'm so tired... I just want to sleep again... My eyes feel deep in their sockets, my eyelids tight, stinging slightly...

Bump, thump... Bump, thump...

There's something cool, too... Almost cold... Too cold... More of the warm... More of the soft... More of the sound...

Bump, thump... Bump, thump...

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"...Michael is sleeping."

I grunt and roll to my other side. Pretty certain I heard my name, there.

"I could not possibly care less, Chaor. Ulmar's mad machinations might occasionally bear fruit, but this one is beyond the realm of reason."

And that's Takinom's voice.

I sit up and look around, blinking the blurriness from my vision. Nobody else is in the room. The voices are coming from beyond the doors.

Chaor's voice sounds again, in his usual rough tone. "I have seen this venture produce results already, Takinom. We are taking this conversation elsewhere."

There's nothing else from the two of them. I guess they really did head off. Shame, overhearing stuff is probably how I'm going to get any answers right now.

I stretch my arms over my head and feel my joints pop all around my body, then turn my attention back to the room. Dominating the place is Chaor's massive bed, which I'm on. Ugh. I really hope it's been cleaned recently. There's a dark smear where my head had been. Bloodstain. Right, that's mine, from yesterday's little... run in.

There's a table near the bed. My clothes are folded neatly on it, and next to them, a tray carrying food and a large bowl. My stomach immediately informs me that I still haven't had anything to eat, and I can't focus on anything else but that tray right now. The table's close enough that I can crawl to the edge of the bed and drag the tray over. I'm cautious for only a moment before my stomach loudly complains about the wait, and I dig into the cold meal.

A bowl of thick gray broth and boiled grains, with large chunks of a white-stemmed plant sticking out like a spoon in a cereal bowl. I drain the bowl in several long swigs. It's salty, and I have to stop several times to chew the hard kernels. The stalks crunch like celery, but with a spray of bitter water in each bite.

A thick-skinned blue fruit, already cut in half, revealing its white center, with a large knife beside it. The peel is tough and inedible, but the insides are juicy and sweet. I use the knife to carve as much as I can from the inside of the skin and the core.

A cooked violet tuber topped with off-white cream. The fruit knife goes to work again, slicing the tuber and spreading the cream along its dark red insides. The cream is tart, the tuber bland. I use the leftovers in the bowl to add a little flavor.

A large mound of meat with a bone sticking out of it, covered in a slightly blackened rind. I cut into the meat and see a thin layer of browned meat covering a red fleshy core, juices releasing with the smallest pressure. The rind and outer layer of meat are chewy and tough, but the inner section melts in my mouth. It must have been soaked in spices because the initial wave of saltiness eventually gives way to a soft pleasant burn on my tongue.

After finishing off the obvious, I'm still hungry, despite the dense pit that my stomach no doubt has become. I crack open the bone with the help of the knife and begin scraping at the marrow with my teeth. Then I look at the knife in my hand again. Of the four places I arrive at in Perim each lifetime, the UnderWorld is by far the most hazardous. No amount of promises from Chaor can make me feel comfortable with going around unarmed. That is, assuming I'll be allowed to go anywhere by myself anyway, with all of fawning over me Chaor has done.

That's the next puzzle I need to resolve. If I'm going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future, then Chaor's bizarre behavior needs to be addressed. What can I determine from the information that I have? Well, to start with, I need to list out what I know.

I start thinking out loud while aimlessly drilling a hole into the leftover fruit skin with the knife. "The mystery of Chaor. First off, this didn't happen immediately." Chaor acted as expected when I arrived in his throne room this time, so the shift in behavior happened sometime during the days that I was experimented on, the days I don't remember.

I start on another hole. "Second, he's being strangely protective?" That feels like the case, anyway. I've known Chaor to become emotionally attached before, but never to this point. No, protective has to be the wrong word. "Possessive, actually." You don't mess with Chaor's things, and if he considers me one of his things, well...

I stop fiddling with the knife. This isn't going anywhere. I'm missing too much, so thinking about it is going to rely heavily on conjecture.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

The door opens while I'm tying my shoes. Chaor is back, ground shaking with his footsteps. "I see you finally had yesterday's dinner," he says in that unusually warm tone, and I hear him step over to the tray I left on the end table.

"It was very satisfying," I mutter, keeping my eyes very firmly on my shoes.

The movement stops, and there's an uncomfortable silence. Then a shadow looms over me. "Michael," Chaor begins with an edge in his voice, "what have you got there?"

I feel Chaor starting to pull something out of my pocket, and on reflex, I snap my hand back and grab it as well. Chaor stops pulling it away but doesn't release his grip. I look up at Chaor crouching over me, him holding the handle of the fruit knife with two fingers, me holding the back on the blade in my hand.

I take a deep breath, and it feels like my heart is trying to pump concrete. "I need to be able to defend myself," I say, no doubt not as clearly or confidently as I'm hoping to sound.

"There is no need," Chaor says firmly as he starts pulling the knife away. "No-one will harm you."

I tighten my grip on the knife and point at the side of my face with my other hand. "This wasn't a gentle shove, Chaor. The UnderWorld is a place where the strong eat the weak, and right now, Humans are the weak." I give the knife a tug, and it slips out of Chaor's grasp. I stand up and slide the knife back into my pocket, then look back at Chaor. His face is almost level with mine, the way he's crouching.

Chaor scoffs, his breath hot on my face. "Yesterday was an oversight, one that I have corrected. You have nothing left to fear from those in the palace."

Fear is giving way to anger. I jab Chaor's snout with a finger and hold it there. "What about outside the palace? What if one of your subjects wants a quick, exotic meal of Human meat? What if one of your subjects decides to 'recruit' me as a fighter in the death pits? Is your authority so ironclad that nobody breaks your laws?"

Chaor doesn't budge from my strike to his nose, but he doesn't answer, either.

I turn away from Chaor and throw my hands up. "Or are you going keep me in a safe little cage, like some domesticated pet? Perhaps treat me like a porcelain doll, something pretty to look at and keep on a shelf?" I whip back around and point at Chaor's face. "You've done that before. It was miserable."

Chaor puts a hand on the bed and lifts himself back to standing, the sits down on the mattress. His gaze does not waver the entire time. "Of course," he mutters. "You know much about this city. Clearly, you have experienced the best and worst it has to offer." He tilts his head to the side. "You cannot start over any time that you like, either. Is it dying that causes that?"

My train of thought derails and bring my campaign of righteous fury to a screeching halt. "I- what?"

"If you could start over whenever and as often as you like, we would never have made it to today to have this conversation. You would have used this ability of yours the moment something went awry. Am I wrong?"

Of course, he'd still be piecing together what I'm capable of. "...No, you're correct." Please don't look too far into this, Chaor. Stronger creatures than you have broken down into insanity when they've delved too far.

Chaor stares at the far wall, silent for a long time. Then he speaks again. "Very well. However, that knife is insufficient." He stands up and heads for the exit. "Come. Let us find a more suitable BattleGear for you."

I'm not celebrating this victory. Chaor is still plotting something, and I'm at the center of it. I'm not any closer to getting out of here, and I'm afraid that, if Chaor gets what he wants, I never will.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	7. Spy

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Spy**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Ulmar is the guy to go to in the UnderWorld if you're looking for mad science, bizarre ideas, tweaks on the existing and conceptions of the new that brush against the edges of sanity. So, not what we're looking for in the slightest.

Khybon is the one to go to if you're looking for the tried and true. As the UnderWorld's most skilled engineer, he'll get you what you're looking for in no time at all.

"Impossible."

Or not.

The large, muscular, four-armed and bird-headed creature turns back to what seems to be some kind of welding job. His sole biological hand holds a massive metal frame steady, while his other three arms, each with attached welding equipment, get back to work in their complicated dance of machinery.

Chaor folds his arms, unimpressed with Khybon's answer. "You barely gave the Human a glance, Khybon."

Khybon sighs, and he withdraws from his project and turns to me. He glares on me with his three eyes, glancing up and down at me. The eye on his forehead swivels to look at Chaor, while his other two keep focusing on me. "It takes at least a solan of training to properly handle any of the BattleGear I've got," he growls. "I've had Humans in much better shape try to pilfer my inventory, and none have been able to pose a threat with what they've stolen once I've cornered them. He's better off with a dagger, something more suited for slow Human minds."

Ouch.

Chaor's brow lowers. "Why are you speaking like that? And more importantly, you have a thief problem?"

Khybon's lower eyes squint in a way that someone familiar with him would recognize as a grin. "Nothing's been lost, don't worry. They never get far." He tilts his head to the side a little and looks directly at Chaor. "Speaking like what?"

"He's talking about contractions," I pipe up. "I've, they've, don't... Words like that."

Khybon lowers his head and rubs his lower eyes while rolling his third. "Ah, that. It's those damnable Humans again. You hear enough of their squealing and you pick up some of their speech patterns."

I glance over at Chaor and lower my voice a little. "Pretty much all of Perim will be talking like Humans before the solan is over."

Chaor grunts at me, and then turns back to Khybon. "Set him up with something regardless. We can judge whether or not he can handle our BattleGear after seeing him in action."

Khybon lets out an exasperated sigh and starts unscrewing the welding tools from his wrists. "Very well, but I hope you don't have high expectations."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Khybon's local workshop is an open-air, fenced-off field. It doubles as a firing range of sorts, with several targets made of stacked hay or stone scattered about. Khybon and Chaor sit in a crude bunker watch me through a thick window. Chaor's watching with rapt attention, while Khybon looks bored.

I already know that the BattleGear Khybon is having me try out won't do as a self-defense weapon. Sure, it's got firepower, but it's heavy and difficult to whip out quickly. Clearly, he just wants Chaor to see me fail to fire the darn thing. The BattleGear in question is a pyroblaster, a metal tube that splits into three pipes tipped with metal cages, atop a pair of textured grips. It's basically a fancy flamethrower with a few extra tricks.

Khybon's voice comes out of a speaker on top of the structure. "Try to hit one of the targets." Then there's a click as the speaker turns off, and I see him turn to Chaor to say something.

Khybon had said that it would take a solan, or six months, of training to properly fire any of his gear. While a gross exaggeration, it is true that it takes quite a bit of practice to use this thing, even more so to be good at it.

I pick my target, a nearby pile of rocks and take aim with the heavy hunk of metal, looking down a line of metal sights atop it. I put a foot back, brace the weapon against my shoulder, and pull the grips together. Gouts of flames shoot from the end and cover my target.

Chaor smirks at the surprised-looking Khybon. The speaker clicks on, and I catch the tail end of his remark. "-certainly was entertaining to see. The look on your face, that is."

Khybon narrows his eyes at Chaor. "It could've been a lucky guess." He turns his attention to me. "Well, Michael? What do you think?"

I rest the weapon on its side on a table near the bunker. "It's bulky. I'd need to put a shoulder strap on it to carry it around, and it takes too long to aim."

Khybon grunts, "Well, move on to the next one, then." The speaker then clicks off.

The next BattleGear Khybon wants me to try is a brass-colored spear with an open tip. A cyclance. "Same issue here," I say before turning and blasting a far off target with a bolt of lightning. "A Perim native could whip this thing around one-handed, but not a Human. It's also more of a long-range weapon."

The speaker clicks one, and I can hear Chaor laughing in the background as Khybon speaks. "Was Perim really the subject of one of Earth's 'television shows'?"

"Yeah," I reply as I put down the cyclance. I really like cyclances, a pity that it's not going to work for what I need it for.

"And there you have it," Khybon says to Chaor. "Simple mimicry. A Human might technically know how to use these weapons, but-"

"Michael," Chaor interrupts, "skip the liquilizer. Demonstrate the next one."

Past the bizarre pistol called a liquilizer is that strangest BattleGear of the lot, a jagged green gemstone on a thin metal chain. A diamond of vlaric.

"Chaor, even by mimicking what he must have seen in this 'show' he won't be able to use that," Khybon sighs. "No Human has been able to make it even misfire. That is if they didn't mistake it for jewelry in the first place."

Chaor leans back in his seat and puts his arms behind his head. "You underestimate our friend here."

The speaker clicks off. I pick up the diamond by the chain and lift it to eye level. It glows softly, and small brighter sparks of light dance inside it. I suppress a grin. This is will do nicely. I loop the chain over my neck, then walk back to the center of the testing area. I glance at Khybon, grin at him, then close my eyes and focus on the diamond.

I can feel the stone and earth around me as if they were parts of my own body. I can feel vibrations in the ground beneath my feet, the precarious balance of the stone targets, each grain of dust carried by currents of warm air.

I turn my palms upward like I'm about to lift a stone in my hands and raise my arms up a little. The earth behind me obeys, two large round stones erupting and hovering by my shoulders. I open my eyes and glance around. Seven straw targets in my field of view. Let's annihilate the closest and the farthest. I flick my wrists and spear my fingers, and the spheres of rock rocket toward their objectives, shattering them into wide piles of dried plant.

The way Khybon's beak is shaped makes it difficult to see if his mouth is hanging open, but I can imagine that it is. Chaor looks at him with a wide, taunting grin, the leans forward and switches the speaker on. "Do you like this one, Michael?"

I nod. "It'd be better with a shorter chain. I could do a lot more if I weren't worried about it whipping around all the time."

Chaor's brow rises. "Oh? What more could you do?"

I press my lips together, as if deep in thought. I already know what to do, of course. I've been working on a plan ever since I saw the diamond on the table. "Maybe I can show you..." I mutter in what I hope sounds like a thoughtful tone while I start bunching the chain up behind my neck.

I hear the speaker click off. Oh no, you're not doing that. You and Khybon have been talking with that off this whole time, and I want in on that conversation. I focus on the diamond again and reach out toward the bunker, at all the metal within, and with a flick of a finger, the switch controlling the outside speaker nudges just high enough...

"-our most valuable BattleGear, my lord," Khybon says exasperatedly.

"You are correct," Chaor agrees. "I want to see if it is worth the expense."

I tie off the chain and start pulling off my shirt.

Khybon blinks. "What's he doing?"

Chaor's eyes widen, and he leans forward in his seat. "I do not know."

You don't know, but you like it. You've been staring at me a lot, Chaor. Time for me to put that to use. If you're going to look at me with that hungry look in your eyes, then I'm going to twist you around my little finger.

I throw my shirt to the side, then swing my arms forward slowly and put my palms together. I close my eyes and bow my head, and I focus again on the diamond. The stone and earth around me quiver, waiting for my command.

I hear Chaor's voice. "Can you hear that?"

Khybon groans. "Did I that thump from under the console while you drooled at the Human? Yes. Yes, I did."

"No, idiot, the ground." Excitement is rising in Chaor's voice. "Did you hear the ground rumble?"

I raise my head and open my eyes, then clench my hands into fists and lift them with a shout. Pillars of stone rise on either side of me, then crack into towers of floating rocks.

"Did- did he just?"

Chaor hushes Khybon and continues to stare.

I sweep my left hand to the side, and the left tower scatters, the stones all striking different targets around me, some of them I'm not even looking at. I sweep with my right, and the same happens to the right tower. I raise my right foot up, put it forward a little, and stomp down. The ground shakes as rubble scatters in every direction, toppling and shredding the crude targets in their path.

"He's a natural," Khybon breathes. "No creature could achieve this level of skill in only a fortnight. Even if that Human spent every waking moment training since he appeared here, two weeks would not be enough for what he's shown."

Two weeks. I have my time-frame back.

I don't need to pretend that I'm exhausted, that display really did take it out of me. I do play it up a little, though, crouching down and putting my hands on my knees as I pant for breath.

Chaor glances at Khybon. "...Yes. You should know."

"I should know what?"

Chaor turns entirely to face Khybon. "What would you say if I told you that Michael is not a natural talent at using a diamond of vlaric? What if I told you that what you saw was, in fact, the result of possibly solans worth of training?"

Khybon looks like he thinks Chaor hit his head a little hard. "If Humans had these things back in their own world, then the sorry displays I've seen wouldn't be so prevalent."

"No, Khybon, you misunderstand." Chaor looks practically giddy. "Michael's power, it is to relive his life. The reason he can use that diamond so well has to be through the result of many lifetimes worth of practice."

"Let's pretend I believe you for the moment," Khybon sighs. "If that were the case, then I would be sending the Human out to spy on other tribes, then having him tell me his findings before I sent him off in the first place."

Chaor grins and says nothing.

Khybon stares. "...You're serious? And that's your plan? Then why are you keeping him locked up in your palace? This is the Human I've been hearing about, yes?"

I try not to look like I'm listening in. Finally, some insight!

"He does not trust me," Chaor sighs. "Not yet, anyway. If he did, he would not have hidden this power of his from me. Before he can become a useful tool for the UnderWorld, he needs to think of himself as an UnderWorlder. He needs to feel like- no, he must become one of us." He looks out the bunker's window at me. "Once he's loyal to us, and once we've determined how to convince me of his powers quickly each lifetime..."

"Pardon?"

Chaor shakes his head. "Never mind that. I have a few changes that I would like you to make on one of your diamonds. But first..." He leans forward, and I hear a click as he pushes the speaker's switch all the way up. "I can have Khybon customize a diamond of vlaric for you, Michael. You prefer this BattleGear, correct?"

"Yup," I say, still breathing heavily.

Chaor grins, and there's another click as the speaker turns off.

I pick up my shirt and wipe my face on it, mostly to hide the grin that I can't stop from forming on my face. I know how many days have passed. I know Chaor's thoughts and intentions. A powerful tool will soon be in my possession.

I hope you're ready, UnderWorld. I'm about to retake control of my life.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	8. Obsession

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Obsession**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

I might have overeaten again. The dense pit in my stomach is saying that anyway. It might also have to do with the ever-present Chaor looming over me, but dinner was definitely a factor. I don't know what kind of meat it was, and I'm not in a hurry to find out.

"You feel it in your gut, right?" Chaor chuckles. "I have never seen a creature of your size eat as much as you did."

I give my stomach a pat. "It beats scavenging by a long shot."

I glance at Chaor walking beside me. My comment seems to be having the intended effect. He's looking slightly past me, a slight strain to his grin. "Right, well, you can rest assured that your days of scavenging are in the past."

Well, if my plans go as I hope, I just might be right back to scavenging. Far from UnderWorld City, at least. I just need to get my hands on that diamond of vlaric, and that means making sure I don't give Chaor a reason to think twice about giving it to me.

"You seem to be less on edge," Chaor notes after a moment of silence.

I set my jaw to the left a little, tilt my head a bit to the right, and push my eyebrows a bit together. I turn to look at Chaor and mutter, "Well, I guess it's just starting to sink in how well it's going this time around."

Chaor doesn't look at me, but I see the upward twitch of the corner of his mouth. He turns at an intersection in the hall, and I follow him. It looks like we're heading to the baths again.

I make my eyes dart around the hall as we approach the doors to the baths. "Wait, here? Isn't it a little early to be washing up?"

Chaor pauses by the door and turns to face me. He folds his arms across his chest and leans against the wall. "What time do you think it is, Michael?"

I raise an eyebrow. "It's kind of impossible to tell in the UnderWorld, really. No sky." I tilt my head down and raise a hand to my chin. "Um, a little past noon?"

Chaor bursts out laughing, deep and rumbling. "Were you to see the sky, you would have seen that the sun had set hours ago!"

Yup, as I thought. I raise my eyebrows, widen my eyes, and part my lips to show closed teeth. "Holy crap. How long was I asleep for?"

"Long enough," Chaor smirks as he opens the door and steps through.

The tub is not yet halfway full, and there's a sound of water splashing as it continues to fill. One of the palace's servants is in here, a rat-woman about my height, dressed in a simple robe. She's carrying a torch, sticking it into the shelves along the wall to light the fireplaces there.

Chaor starts undoing the straps of his bracers. I crouch down and start undoing my shoelaces, and I ask, "Still, two days in a row? I know how expensive it is to run this thing."

"You are aware that I can afford to indulge in my luxuries, correct?" Chaor lets his bracers fall to the ground and begins working on his belt. "Besides, you are drenched in sweat and dust. You must be looking forward to washing that all off."

He's got that right. I ended up demonstrating my proficiency with that diamond until its power had completely faded. "You sure you're not just looking for an excuse to show your body off again?" I tease as I kick off my shoes.

Chaor chuckles and lets his belt clatter to the ground. "You are definitely less afraid now," he states. "You have that expression back on your face. Confident. Analytical." He's got that hungry look in his eyes again. "Dare I say, controlling?"

"Controlling?" I ask while I look down and feign difficulty with my own belt. "What do you mean?"

I hear a soft thump as Chaor's loincloth hits the ground, followed by a clatter of metal as he unclasps his boots. "That first day, in my throne room, despite all the scent of your fear, your face did not betray a hint of it." A clang as one boot comes off. "Ulmar's early experiments, as well, the ones he called your 'baseline'. When creatures acted as they normally would, that confidence remained, and your words flowed like nectar, flattering and manipulative." The clang of the other boot.

"Hmm," I grunt, still working on my belt. I'm no longer feigning difficulty, I'm actually having a bit of trouble with it. "Should have loosened this during dinner," I grumble.

A pair of large red hands push my own hands away, then start to work on my belt with deceptive dexterity. Chaor is crouched in front of me, his face smug as hell. "Immediately after I say how in control you looked, too," he needles.

I want to slap his hands, to shove him away. He's way too close for comfort, especially where his hands are. You need that diamond, Michael. Don't antagonize him. Play along.

Instead, I reach up, grab Chaor's horns, and push them up slightly, turning his head up so we're face to face. I stretch my mouth out into a wide grin, baring my teeth, and narrow my eyes slightly. "Don't mistake 'slightly inconvenienced' for 'helpless', Chaor."

The hint of surprise on Chaor's face fades quickly back into that smug grin. "Strange, how much this feels like speaking to a mirror, now," he muses as he tosses my belt aside. "You command attention, demand respect..." He looks back down and fiddles with the fly of my jeans. "It's... intoxicating."

On the outside, I'm smirking right back at Chaor. On the inside? My gut is twisting upon itself, and there's all-too-familiar ice-water in my veins. I release his horn with a forced chuckle and start pulling my shirt off, using the moment where my face is hidden to drop my forced expression and grit my teeth a moment.

I don't dare say it out loud, but Chaor has struck right at the heart of his strange obsession with me. Not just me, but of practically every other target of his obsessions. Many other creatures have those same qualities. Maxxor, an enemy of his, far outside of his control, he regards with hatred and fear. Van Bloot, allegedly an ally and undeniably a threat, he views with suspicion. Maria, an opposing force he thinks he can control, he sees as a rival. And then there's me, apparently completely under Chaor's control...

Chaor's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. "Shall we delay having our clothes taken to be cleaned?" he asks as he finishes the job of stripping me down. He looks over at the servant, who pauses in gathering our clothing up. "You have gone many days without the touch of a woman, ever since arriving in my world at the minimum."

The servant glances between me and Chaor, surprised, then drop what she had gathered up already and opens up her robes. "I-if it would please you, s-sir," she stammers as she displays her bare breasts.

Ah, nope. Even if I were interested, she clearly feels pressured. Would she be in danger if she had refused? Most likely. I can relate... "Thank you for the offer, but it won't be necessary," I say as calmly I can.

The corners of Chaor's mouth twitch upward again. "As you were, then," he says to the servant, who quickly gathers the clothing up and races for the door. Chaor stands back up and heads for the tub, and I follow.

We both sit on the seat of the tub. The water's surface doesn't reach that high up yet, only reaching Chaor's ankles and not even reaching the soles of my feet. Chaor kicks at the pool a little, stirring it with his hooves, then speaks, his voice loud behind me and overpowering the splash of the water. "I wish I had known sooner, what you were capable of. We could make great use of your power."

I don't reply. This close to the roaring water, I wouldn't be able to make myself heard anyway. I need time, anyway. Time to rehearse and prepare. Time to think.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

I'm sitting on a rock that used to be over the fires. It's just high enough that I can sit down and keep my head above the roiling water. Earlier, somebody brought in a pitcher of wine, two goblets, one small and one large, and a small wooden box. I'm pretty certain I know what's in the box.

Chaor drains his first glass and clicks his tongue. "Ah, nothing better, yes?" He stretches his right arm behind me and sets the goblet down with a clink, then dips his hand into the water near my shoulder.

I take another small sip from my own goblet and lean slightly to put my weight against the side of Chaor's chest. "Yeah, a nice jacuzzi soak is really the best way to end an exhausting day."

Chaor looks down at me, looking a little befuddled. "A nice what?"

I lift my right hand out of the water and wave it around a little. "Jacuzzi, spa, whatever. Human thing, where the brand name for something ends up being used as its common name, or something like that."

"Right," Chaor sighs. I think he just rolled his eyes a little. "No, I mean, nothing better than living a life of luxury."

"That too," I nod before taking another sip. I'm not really tasting the stuff, just putting on a show.

Chaor's ride hand slides closer and presses against me a little. "I envy you, Michael. You can have more than just one lifetime of all of this." He gives me a gentle squeeze between his arm and his pectoral. "And endless life, wanting for nothing, having everything..."

There's the lead-in. The bait. The best thing for me to do right now, though, is take a firm bite of that bait and cast one out myself. "Minus the whole, you know, you trying to kill me at the start of each one," I grumble. "I'm not sure I could handle having to prove myself to you with all Ulmar's experiments every time I start over."

Chaor chews on my words for a while. "Yes, we need to address that."

Chaor told Khybon about his plans for me as a spy. Time to use that for the reel-in. After a moment's pause, I say in a thoughtful tone, "Kiru City gets attacked by a Mipedian Conjuror three days after Humans arrive in Perim."

Chaor looks down at me. "...Yes, I heard about that. Too late to take advantage of it, of course."

I widen my eyes and turn my body to face Chaor. "That's just it. Three days is too short a warning for you to profit off of the attack, yes, but it's soon enough for you to verify!"

Chaor's brow rises. "So, you lead off with that on your first day..."

"And I both prove my power and earn your trust when the attack actually happens!" I finish. Then I force a cringe. "A-assuming I actually have earned your trust, that is?"

Chaor pauses, then lifts his arm and pats the floor a distance behind me. "Sit here," he orders.

I quickly scramble out of the water and sit cross-legged on the ground while Chaor turns around in the water. He grabs a hold on the wooden box and slides it between us.

"I had this whole speech prepared, where I would try to convince you that you could trust me," Chaor says slowly, fiddling with the box between his claws. "I had it set in my mind that you were the one who needed convincing, and now I see that you were thinking the same about me."

I think it worked. "Oh." I chuckle a little. "A little bit like A Tale of Two Fools, then." An UnderWorld comedy, a story of two warlords trying to figure out how to surrender to each other. Told to UnderWorld children as a lesson not to give up too quickly.

Chaor ponders my words for a bit. "I guess I can see the comparison." He turns his attention to the box. "I was going to... well, I guess I was going to bribe you with this." He lifts the box's contents out carefully. "Now, it is in answer to your question."

It's a diamond of vlaric, red instead of the usual green or blue, cut into a rounded triangle. A thin golden cage surrounds the gem, and a short, delicate golden chain dangles off the top. A sharp point of light emanates from the gem, pulsating like a heartbeat.

I'm legitimately speechless for a moment. Its powers aside, this piece is worth a small fortune. "I-I'm sorry, is that a vlaric heart?" For the first time in a while, I don't need to act. "And you're just giving me it?"

Chaor beckons me closer with one hand, and I oblige. He loops the necklace around my neck and clasps it, then adjusts the gem so it sits neatly between my collarbones. "What if my precious little Human used up an ordinary diamond, hmm? You know how it works, yes?"

I decide not to comment on Chaor's word choice. "Bathe the gem in flames until the sun rises," I quote. I touch the gemstone around my neck when a thought occurs. "The frame is gold, though."

Chaor laughs. "It comes out. One as smart you should be able to figure out how."

I might actually feel a little bad for betraying Chaor tonight. Just a little, though. "Thank you. You don't know how much-"

As I look back up at Chaor's face, one of his hands grabs the back of my head and pulls me forward. My yelp of surprise is cut short as Chaor's tongue darts into my open mouth, filling it with the taste of flesh and ash.

My mind is already focused on the diamond at my throat, sensing the rocks around me quiver, waiting for me to command them. I could do it right now, lash out at Chaor and make my escape. ...No, even with this gem, I'm not a match for the king of the UnderWorld. I release my focus, and the stones fall still.

Chaor draws back, his eyes darting around at the brief vibrations I'd caused. "Did I startle you?"

My chest is heaving as I catch my breath. I need to think fast. "All of a sudden the only thing I could see was the inside of your mouth! I thought you were going to bite my head off!" Then hand over my heart is genuine. The shaking of my body, not so much.

"My apologies," Chaor says, with an expression that doesn't really match how contrite he's claiming to be. He grins and continues, "I will be sure to treat you more gently." Then he closes his eyes and leans forward again, mouth open slightly.

You'll be out of here soon, Michael. Just play along.

I dated a girl back on Earth some years back. A classmate in college. She smoked, and it made kissing a little... unpleasant. We parted ways before the semester ended, and I haven't heard from her since. The only reason I'm remembering her now is that the taste of Chaor's tongue is the same, though he seems eager to try driving his into my stomach.

I gasp for breath as Chaor pulls away, and he pushes me onto my back. He grins down at me, water dripping from his body, a predator's glow to his eyes. "You need not worry about me eating you," he jokes, "but do know that you are... delicious."

"Glad to hear it," I mutter weakly, plastering a grin on my face. It feels fake and no doubt looks like it, too.

Chaor is no longer looking in my eyes, though. "I wonder how the rest of your body tastes," he hums.

Chaor lowers his head back down, out of my view, and my breath catches in my throat as he closes his mouth on me.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Chaor lies on his side next to me, grinning at my trembling body. "Enjoyed that, did you?" he drawls, his tongue dancing out to clean my product off his muzzle. "Your first time being serviced by a royal tongue?"

Not even close, asshole. I keep that thought to myself, though, opting to take slow, deep breaths instead.

Chaor laughs and rolls back into the water. "It will be my turn tonight," he says while he leans back with arms spread out across the rim of the tub. "I will have you crying out my name in ecstasy soon, Human, while my seed marks you as mine..."

Chaor disappears under the surface, and I cover my face with my hands and grit my teeth. This is nothing, I tell myself. You've been through hell before, and this doesn't hold a candle to it. By the time morning comes around, you'll be long gone, all this an unpleasant but distant memory.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	9. Exit

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Exit**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

I can hear the thumping, feel it against my face. I'm lying on my stomach, atop something warm, firm and uneven. Something heavy is resting on my back. I ache. I ache so much.

I open my eyes and see nothing. I place my hands near my shoulders and push myself up, and my vision fills with Chaor's chest. It's rising and falling softly with his breathing, shaking with his heartbeats, glistening in the torchlight as it moves. His eyes are closed, his tongue hanging out the side of his open mouth. One of his hands is draped across my back, holding me down.

Right. I passed out. I take a deep breath and let it out. Then I breathe in through my nose. Yup, still in there. No broken bones, either. That's good. I really need to take a shit, though.

...Oh. Is Chaor still inside...? ...Yup.

I shudder and fight down the bile rising in my throat. I press down with my knees to lift my body all the way up, struggling to ignore the sound and sensation as I slide off Chaor's- I feel the vomit on my tongue this time and have to choke it back down.

Chaor's hand slides off me as I shift around, and his chest rumbles as he shifts underneath me. He doesn't wake, though. Good, having this escape end before it could even begin would be soul-crushing.

I carefully crawl off Chaor's stomach onto the mattress proper, dragging trails of thick slime with me. Quick update to the plan. Wash up, then escape. Chaor's and my clothes aren't back, so I woke up before the servant brought them. Good.

I hear the door click open while I'm slowly climbing down the side of the bed. "Oh," a familiar female voice says softly. "I hope I did not wake you."

"Oh, it's no problem," I say while making sure I've reached the ground. "I was already awake."

I turn to see the same rat-like woman from earlier. She has a pile of laundered clothing in her arms. She looks up and down at me with wide eyes. "Ah... Did he...?"

I put my finger to my lips as I glance back at Chaor, and she falls silent. "Best not wake him up. He might want to go for another round."

The servant shudders. "Ah. Well, I'll just leave these here."

"Wait," I interject, and she pauses. "Will you do something for me?"

She nods slowly. "If I can," she adds with a frown.

Okay, if I'm going to involve her this much, then I should at least know who she is. "First, what's your name?"

The rat-woman blinks. "Uh, my name? Pepranithalint."

...That's a mouthful. "May I call you Pepper?"

She nods. "I do not mind."

"Okay, then." I rub my hands together and glance back at Chaor. There's still no signs of movement, save the occasional twitch of his tail dangling off the bed. I turn my attention back to Pepper. "I need to wash up, real bad. I have goo in places I don't even want to think about."

Pepper nods and sets the clothing down. "I will go and start the baths."

"Ah, no," I say. At Pepper's confused look, I continue, "Could I use the washroom in the servants' wing? And, uh, carry my clothes for me, please? I don't want to get all this on it," I gesture at my body.

Pepper nods with a pitying look as she picks my clothing out of the pile. "Of course, I understand completely." She gathers my things and heads out the door, and I follow close behind.

Then we are immediately stopped by the guards outside the door. "Where are you going?" one of them says to me.

I recognize that voice. "I'm going to wash up. Care to escort us?"

The soldiers pause and glance at each other. "Er, we need to keep the door guarded."

I raise an eyebrow at them. "Then just one of you. I don't feel safe wandering the halls alone at night." I glance at Pepper and add, "Not that you're nobody, it's just, he has a weapon."

Pepper nods a little, her eyes wide and her knees shaking.

The soldier sighs in disgust. "Fine." He turns to his companion. "Stay here, I will be back soon."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

The walk to the servants' wing went by uneventfully, except for a moment where I greeted a decorative suit of armor thinking there was a person inside. The soldier is still chuckling about it, and even Pepper is smiling.

Pepper enters the washroom, and I turn to the soldier. "Could you wait out here? Ah, and no hard feelings about you and your friend trying to spear me the other day."

"Er, I was the one with my spear at your throat, not-"

"Not the spear I'm talking about, big guy," I laugh as I knock my fist against his codpiece. I head through and close the door behind me as he flinches.

"We have no hot water down here," Pepper apologizes. She's filled the bottom of a shallow wooden tub with a few inches of water.

"That's fine," I say as I step in.

Gah, it's like ice. Forcing myself to sit down in the water takes immense effort, and shivers are running down my spine. I pick up a nearby brush, then pause. This is going to be hard.

"Ah, I hate to impose more than I already am, but could you scrub me?" I cringe and hold the brush out to Pepper. "I'm not used to cold baths, and I don't think I can wash myself quickly like this."

"I am here to serve," Pepper says as she takes the brush from me. "No need to apologize."

I grit my teeth as Pepper splashes my back with freezing water and starts to scrub. "I'm not your master," I say with a shaky voice. "Pretty much a servant myself, when you get right down to it." Honestly, "slave" is a better word.

"You have it better than a real servant," Pepper laughs humorlessly. "You get to eat what he eats, large and warm meals. You get to use his baths, sleep in his bed." She pauses her scrubbing and traces a finger down the chain on my necklace. "You are given beautiful gifts before he breeds you."

I remember a time when I was under the impression that Chaor had a lot of wives, rather than a lot of servants who weren't allowed to say no to an invitation to his chambers.

"Does he... you...?" I trail off. "I shouldn't have asked, sorry." What a thing to ask someone.

"I do not mind," Pepper says, moving the brush to my lower back. "I find myself enjoying having someone to talk to about all of this. Nobody else really speaks to me, because I'm..."

"An OverWorlder," I finish.

Pepper hums. "You are perceptive."

Most beast-folk in Perim are OverWorlders, it was simply a lucky guess. UnderWorlders like Rothar are the odd ones out. "Well, if you want me to ask, then, does Chaor have you, er, join him in bed?"

Pepper shakes her head. "He would not taint himself with me," she states.

That's a relief, at least.

Pepper continues, "No, he lets the palace guard have their way with me whenever they feel like it. The ones guarding Chaor's room were why I was late in bringing your clothing in."

...I don't know what's worse, what she said, or the submissive tone she used as she said it. "I'm sorry," I mutter.

"That is life," she shrugs. "Lean back a little."

I do so, and she starts on my chest.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

My skin feels raw after that scrub down. I can acutely feel my clothing rub against my skin as I get dressed. It feels so good, better than after those fancy baths. Chaor's absence might have something to do with that, to be honest.

"I suppose this is goodbye for now," Pepper says as she cleans up after me.

Not a chance, Pepper. "Er, I think you should come back with me, actually," I state. "I don't think you folded Chaor's clothing."

Pepper blinks, and then her eyes go wide. "Gods below, I forgot! Thank you!"

How long has she been down here, to be using the UnderWorld phrase "gods below" rather than the OverWorld "gods above"?

The soldier says nothing when we exit the washroom, simply falling in step behind us. The trek back is quiet, up until we pass by the decorative suit of armor once again.

The armor is posed standing at attention, one hand over the other, both atop a sword. The sword is pointed at the ground, held in place only by the armor's hands. I focus on the diamond near my throat, and I hear the silent song of the metal of the whole display. I let another few dozen steps go by, then...

"I don't like this," I say suddenly, turning my head from side to side.

Pepper's eyes go wide, and she looks around. "What is it?" Her voice is trembling.

"I don't know." I glance at Pepper, then the soldier. "It feels like... like we're being watched."

The soldier looks around as well. "We are alone," he says after a long pause. "You are jumping at shadows."

Pepper puts a hand on her chest. She's breathing heavily. "Perhaps you are-"

The soldier is focusing his attention on Pepper. I twitch my hand, and the armor lifts its arms a little, freeing the sword. The weapon tilts forward, and a scoop of my hand makes it stop mid-fall.

"-simply tired. You-"

I rotate my hand at the wrist, and the sword rotates until the hilt hovers between the armor's legs and the blade points down the hall.

"-should hurry back to bed." Pepper gives no sign that she noticed my motions.

Neither does the soldier. "Can we get moving? I would like to get back to my post as soon-"

I twitch my palm into my thumb.

"-as-"

The soldier's body jolts as a blade erupts from his stomach, and he inhales quickly at the shock. Pepper shrieks, and I stagger back as if taken by surprise as well. The soldier's helmet tips down, and he stares at the blade silently.

I extend my thumb again, and the sword pulls back cleanly. No longer blocked by the metal, blood sprays from the hole in the soldier's gut. A bit gets on Pepper and me. The soldier falls to his knees. Pepper continues shrieking. I grab Pepper and push her behind me.

I put my thumb back into my palm. The sword shoots forward again, at speeds that render the soldier's armor about as useful as paper. The blade pierces his back and exits through the center of his chest. The soldier falls forward, hits the floor, and remains still.

I turn to Pepper and cover her mouth. I put my finger to my lips. "Quiet," I breathe as low as I can manage.

Pepper slowly pulls my hand down. "We-we're being attacked," she breathes back. Her pupils are like pinpricks.

"No, we aren't." I turn and step over to the soldier. I grasp the sword by the hilt and pull it out, then place it on the back of his neck, where the helmet and breastplate don't quite meet. I wrap both my hands around the hilt and put my full weight on the sword.

The soldier's body spasms as the blade pierces through bone, nerve, and flesh, and there's a clink as the blade's tip strikes the stone floor beneath. If the second blow didn't kill him, then this one surely did.

I turn to Pepper. She's staring at me, at the corpse, back at me. "You... you killed him."

"I did." I grab her hand. "We need to go."

I half lead, half drag Pepper with me, and we run, our footsteps echoing down the empty halls.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	10. Freedom

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Freedom**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

There's a clanging of bells in the halls. Not a soft ringing like music, but the harsh clatter of an alarm. High alert, they cry out. Soon every room and hallway will be under lockdown, and armored creatures will be scouring the palace for anything out of the ordinary. Anyone they find will be subdued, any intruders captured or killed. Until a given soldier is informed exactly what the circumstances are, those are the orders those bells give.

Pepper and I aren't in a room. We're in that small hollow between walls, the same place I'd hidden the first day here. It had been an uncomfortable fit for me alone, and this time Pepper is on her back on the ground, me on my hands and knees above her, curled up tightly to squeeze into this suffocating space. My hand is over Pepper's mouth while I listen to the stomps of heavy boots in the nearby hall.

I can't hear signs of anyone else nearby, and I release my grip on Pepper's face. Her body is shaking, her tall ears twitching, and her fur is standing on end. Her eyes are locked on me, and her breathing is fast and shallow.

"You have my silence," Pepper squeaks. "Please, let me go."

I shake my head. "No, you're coming with me."

"I am a servant, a slave," Pepper whimpers, her jaw trembling. "Worthless as a hostage. Release me, and I will set them on a false path, I swear."

"This isn't an abduction, it's an escape." Okay, it's kind of an abduction, but it would be worse to leave her behind. "We're going to get out of here together."

Pepper's voice is soft, but the disbelief of her face is deafening. "Where do you think you can go? Every door will be watched, and even if you did find a way out, this is the heart of UnderWorld City. You cannot possibly escape the notice of the entire city."

She's right about one thing. An escape on foot would end quickly and poorly. I could try this a thousand times and not be able to remember and predict the movements of every creature that could see us.

"Not if we avoid the streets," I breathe as I close my eyes and focus on the vlaric heart on its chain.

"The rooftops are just as guarded," Pepper's voice trembles, "and there are worse things than guards in the sewers."

I twist my arm to my face and put a finger to my lips, my eyes still closed, and Pepper falls silent, save for a few restrained sobs. I reach out through the diamond, at the stone and earth around me, feeling the weight of the walls and ceiling, the depth of the floors, and the empty space all between. I put these sensations together with the layout of the city, a map I've etched into my mind over many lives.

"Twelve feet down," I mutter out loud, "not to the sewers, just above them. Then, follow the ceiling bricks of the sewer south, along the main road. Past the main gate, then east, in the blind spot of the city walls."

I open my eyes, and Pepper is staring at me with more terror than before. "What are you saying?" she whispers.

"This might be a little unpleasant." I place my hand against the smooth stone floor of the hollow, and I push.

The stone below us drops, and there's a brief lurch in my stomach as Pepper and I fall the sudden few inches of distance to the ground. My chest hits Pepper's, and our faces collide. The rat-woman squeals in pain, but only slightly.

"Sorry," I whisper, my vision a blur from the strike to my nose. "Brace yourself, it's going to happen again."

I push down, and the floor drops another few inches. Pepper catches her descent this time, and I avoid colliding with her, just barely. The distance between the ceiling and floor is much more tolerable now, and I stand up slightly, giving Pepper space to breathe.

"A-are you doing this?" Pepper looks up in astonishment. "No human I saw these past few days displayed any kind of elemental skill."

I decide not to bring up the necklace, or to acknowledge her question at all, really. "Okay, I've got a feel for the stone below us, I think."

I close my eyes again and focus, this time only on the space below the floor. I spread my fingers apart and gently lower my hands, palms down. The earth below us trembles and obeys, slowly descending. We drop several more feet until I finally release my concentration on the shifting stone.

I hear my pulse in my ears. My lungs burn, and there's sweat sliding down my forehead. Worries ring in my head, concerns about whether we're limited by the diamond's remaining strength or my own stamina.

Pepper rises to her feet and looks up at the distant hollow, mouth hanging open. "What are you?" she whispers. "A warrior, a muge?" She looks at me, eyes a mix of wonder and anxiety.

I lean back against the wall I created and try to catch my breath. "I'm really, really out of shape." I give my stomach a squeeze. "Fast food has spoiled me."

Pepper's brow lowers a little, and her mouth opens and closes. Her bewildered expression is actually kind of funny. "Fast... food?"

"I'll explain when we get out of here," I promise as I look around. I've created a little bit of open space, and the jagged brickwork of the sewer's ceiling can be seen around the edges. It's not enough space, though, and our path will be obvious to anyone who stumbles on the hollow, as unlikely as that might be.

I mentally trace the path that I've planned atop the sewer's ceiling, and I walk along with it, my hands in front of me shoving dense soil aside. I hollow out a large space along the path before lowering my hands and turning to Pepper. "Over here," I say, beckoning with one hand.

Pepper shrinks away from me a little, eyes still wide, then cautiously takes a step forward. When both her feet are off the stone floor we'd descended on, I lift my hand, and the slab begins rising back up to the hollow it had started at. A twitch of a finger here, a drag of a hand there, and our tunnel should be thoroughly hidden.

I turn back to the dense earth in my way. "Follow me, Pepper. We're getting out of here." I focus on my gem and the soil once again and tunnel my way forward, Pepper's quiet footsteps following behind.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Making a comfortably wide hallway was exhausting, so I'd switched to enough room to stand. That also proved too much, so I lowered the ceiling, and it kept happening. Walking slouched, walking crouch, crawling on hands and knees. And now, crawling on our stomachs. There is light, but just barely. It comes from small rocks along our path, minerals emitting a strange light, the same light that lights the UnderWorld in place of a sun.

My head is pounding. The air is stale and hot. My focus is starting to waver. How long has it been? I don't remember. Did I turn where I was planning to? My elbow shakes as I put my weight on it, then gives out, smashing my face against the ground.

Pepper is also gasping for air behind me. The last time I had room to turn around and check on her, there had been scrapes on her knees and bruises on her elbows. Sometimes she would just stop, almost nodding off, only continuing at my urging.

We need fresh air, fast. I had tried to maintain a large bubble of air as we moved, but the tunnel would occasionally collapse as I got too far to hold it up. Breathing takes up oxygen, releases carbon dioxide, and with less and less space, the air would grow too heavy with the latter.

I'm tunneling at an angle upward, now, so we're crawling up a gentle slope. We have to be far enough away now, right? Just a bit farther. Just a bit more.

I touch the soil ahead of me, but it remains still. I focus through the splitting headache, back on the diamond, out into the earth. Nothing. No quiver of energy, no soft song. I fumble with the gemstone in my necklace and wrench it out of its golden cage. Red, opaque stone with no shine. No light. Empty.

"Why have... we stopped?" Pepper gasps behind me.

I struggle to return the gemstone to its cage, then in resignation shove it into a pocket in my jeans. I reach out and, my fingers into the dirt, and shovel a small handful away. "Clear the way behind me," I grunt.

Another minute or so of digging. My fingers are starting to bleed. Digging straight up now, can't waste time, need the surface. Pepper is beside me now, also clawing at the earth. Dirt and gravel are up to our knees, and we're trying to pack it down, to rise up with the extra space we're making, but it's just so hard.

My nails scrape against something solid. Debris falls away from the ceiling, showering down on us, and above us, a ceiling of solid rock rippled like a river or lake frozen mid-flow.

"No," Pepper whispers, placing her hand against the ceiling. "No, no, no!" She scratches against the ceiling, tears heavy with dust streaming down her face. She turns to me. "Move it! Like the floor in the palace!"

Maybe there's a spark left in the gem. I reach out with my mind toward it, resting in my pocket. I can picture it clearly, but no power, no extra sense, comes out in response. "All dried up," I mutter.

Pepper starts shaking. "Why?" Her voice is cracking.

I look at Pepper in the dim light. Her robe is in tatters, sleeves shredded up to the elbows, bottom hem frays up to her knees, the front torn away completely. She's cowering up, bleeding arms clutching her stomach, scraped and bruised breasts heaving with quick breaths.

"Why?" she repeats. "Why did you do this to me?" Her head droops, and she shakes even harder with her sobs. "I could handle the palace, the work, the abuse. I had a place to sleep, food to eat. All that was required of me was to do what I was told."

"We aren't dead yet," I growl as I beat my fists against the ceiling. I'm not finished, not yet. I still have something, right?

I strike the ceiling again, and the sound is hollow. Open space is so close to us. "Hit the ceiling with me," I order.

Pepper stares at me. "I cannot punch through solid-"

"Do it!"

Pepper flinches at my sudden shout and lifts her arms up to obey. Dust is coming down as we pound on the rock.

I grit my teeth. "The rock is a few inches, maybe a foot thick. I don't know how far off course we've gone. Listen closely."

"You are making no sense!" Pepper screeches. "Have you gone mad?"

"Keep hitting the ceiling!" I shout. "Make noise!"

"Noise?!"

I shout with all my might as I slam my fists against the rock over and over, and soon Pepper copies me, panic and fear in her eyes. We do this for minutes, but it feels like hours.

After a while, Pepper collapses. "I cannot do this," she wheezes. "My head is spinning, my eyes are on fire." She looks up at me. "You killed us, Human. You just had to escape, had to leave. Had to drag me along."

"No." I slam my fists against the ceiling. "I'm. Not! Done!" I keep hitting with each word.

Stars are dancing in my vision. My legs are trembling, my arms feel like lead. I'm choking on each breath. Something wet and warm is dripping from my hands and onto my face. Red. Blood.

I slam against the ceiling, over and over. "I! RE-! -FUSE! TO! DIE! A-! -GAIN!"

The ceiling explodes into a shower of sharp rocks. They rain down on me, and I stagger back against the deluge.

I grasp Pepper's hand as the stones rise around us. It fills the cavern quickly, up to my knees in seconds. Pepper has completely vanished below the debris. Up to my waist, and they're still coming down. I try to clear the rocks away with my free hand, but it's just too much. Up to my shoulders. I reach up, high as I can.

Darkness surrounds me as the stone covers my head. My chest heaves, trying to grab a breath. My heart pounds, my lungs scream. Pepper's hand is gripping mine, but her grasp is weakening.

I can feel the torrent of gravel slow against my arm, and it stops rising, my outstretched hand still free to move. I've almost made it. I'm so close to the top. So close. Almost... there...

Something wraps around my hand and pulls. I clench my hand around Pepper's as tight as I can. The sharp rocks bite into my skin as I quickly start rising through them. As we rise through them.

My head breaks through the surface of the rubble, and I gasp for a breath of cold, fresh air. My hand is released, followed by a hoist from below my shoulders. My chest and torso are quickly free, then my waist. My sides are let go, and I stagger forward. I put my free hand out to catch my fall, but my elbow gives out instantly, and I slam against the ground.

The strong force wrenches my hand free from Pepper's, and I hear rocks shift as she's dragged up as well. There's a thump beside me, Pepper collapsing as well. I turn my head over to her I open my eyes.

Pepper lays on the ground coughing and crying. Her eyes open slowly. "We..." She coughs again violently, and spittle streaks across my face. "We are alive..."

I nod slowly, my chest heaving as I gulp down precious air. "Yes." It's all I can say right now.

Pepper grimaces as she moves her arms. "Someone... pulled us out... Saved us." She pushes at the ground, rolling to her side. "Who?" She turns her head, and her eyes go wide. "...No..."

I force myself onto my side as well and look at our savior.

A helmet and shoulder pauldrons, rust-red and bedecked with white, horn-like spikes. A thin slit in the helmet for a visor, yellow eyes shining from beneath. A grayish-brown, stone-like breastplate carved in the shape of a snarling face, sharp teeth hanging over the stomach. Massive gauntlets of similar color and material to the breastplate, covering three fingers and a thumb each. Armor on the tights and calves, same red metal as the helmet and shoulders, with a pair of spiked toes. Jagged gray chainmail hanging from the shoulders. Thick, naked, obsidian-black skin at the elbows, waist, and hips, wrapped tightly around bulging muscles. A red cloth protrudes from the bottom of the breastplate, draped over the bulge of the loins and hanging down to the knees.

One of Lord Van Bloot's best warriors stands above me, one foot on either side of my body. Captain of the Gothos Phalanx. Champion of countless battles. Destroyer of armies.

Pepper and I stare up at Atrapol, and Atrapol glares down at us. Pepper grabs my shirt and clings to me, curling up and burying her face in my chest, shaking and sobbing. I unconsciously wrap an arm around her and hold her tight.

Atrapol crouches down, hands on his knees, and leans forward. He speaks, and his deep voice grinds like a crumbling mountain, echoing in his helmet. "Hello."

I nod and wheeze, "Hello to you, too."

Atrapol leans even closer, legs bent so low that the cloth at his loins drags across my body. His helmet fills my vision, and I can see the shape of his eyes in the darkness beyond, sharp and narrow almonds with glowing yellow irises at their centers. Hot breath escapes his visor, smelling like blood and old meat.

Atrapol and I stare at each other for several moments, with only the sounds of his heavy breaths, my shallows gasps, and Pepper's quiet sobs filling the air. Then Atrapol's eyes shift, eyelids widening, the inner corners lifting up a little. "Up your nose, Michael? All the places you could have put a spying ear, and you shove it up your nostril?"

Pepper's sobs pause, and there's a squeak of confusion. I pat her back, then turn my attention back to Atrapol. "Not a lot of places I could have hidden it where it couldn't be found," I retort, suddenly aware of the pressure in my nose again.

There's a disorienting sound of my own voice ringing from inside Atrapol's helmet, slightly muffled by a strange static. Atrapol pulls his face away from mine a little and points to the side of his head. "Okay, sure, it did the job. I heard every word you and everyone around you said, but I also had a front-row seat to your every bodily sound as well." Atrapol shakes his head abruptly. "Do you have any idea how loud you breathe?"

Atrapol steps backward and extends a massive hand out to me. I take it, and he pulls me to my feet. "By the way, you're an asshole," I say as I help a thoroughly confused Pepper to her feet. "Leaning forward, glowering like you're about to kill us."

The UnderWorlder laughs deep in his throat and lightly strikes my chest with his fist, sending me into a coughing fit. "We can discuss how much of an ass I was later. My vehicle isn't far. I have food, water, fresh clothes-"

Atrapol and the ground start wobbling. No, wait, that's me. A pair of enormous hands catch me as I lose my balance. "Thanks," I mutter, "but I think what I need most right now..."

I don't get to finish my thought before I completely drift off.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**_End of Act I_**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	11. Atrapol - Remember

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_So, it's my turn to write now, right? I've never done any serious writing before._

_Just do your best, and don't worry about mistakes while you're writing. We'll go over everything together before I post it._

_I'm not sure where to start. Do I introduce myself, or jump right into explaining what happened, or...?_

_Just do what you feel works best. You don't even have to write it all in order if you feel like hopping around._

_Like the beginning of Fourteen Times in Perim, right? Maybe I can try something like that._

_Ah, jumping back and forth too much might be a little tiresome for the readers._

_Not for my whole part. A chapter in the present, a chapter in the past, and then the rest in the present._

_I thought you wanted to explain what was happening to you during those first two weeks?_

_That's what I meant. I'm ready to start now._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_**Act II: Atrapol**_

**Remember**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

I am Atrapol, Captain of the Gothos Phalanx, Patriarch of the Red Hand. I am from Blackstone Desert, a wasteland in the OverWorld covered in obsidian spires, scorched forests, and charcoal-buried plains, but I am an UnderWorlder, through and through.

Unless something miraculous has occurred, you, the reader, are a Human. I am not. Please, keep that fact in mind as I tell you my story. I do not ask you to withhold judgment for my actions, simply to understand that you and I are very different sorts of creatures, from very, very different worlds.

Soon I will tell you how I came to be what I am. Now, however, let me take you back to the beginning of this "Another Time" that Michael has told you his side of.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

The first moment of a new lifetime is always a shock. In one moment, I am simply myself, as I have always been for my long hundreds of solans. Ready to take orders, to crush all that stand in the way of my master, Lord Van Bloot of Gothos Tower. In the next, everything changes.

Now, I am every version of myself that has ever lived. I remember Van Bloot's betrayal of me and my brothers, giving us to the M'arrillians to be twisted into mindless, obedient pawns. I remember fighting that last battle against a Human clad in armor and wreathed in flame. I remember my brothers falling, I remember dying. I remember all that life and the next. And the next. And the next.

"Atrapol? Are you ill?"

At my side, in armor similar to my own, is Jaquez, or Jakjak as we call him in jest, more often than not. One of my brothers in the Red Hand.

He does not remember. He does not know.

"I am fine," I say as I wave Jakjak's hand from my shoulder. "Just a spell of dizziness." I lift my helmet and rub my eyes against the crook of my elbow. Jakjak nods and continues on his way.

"You work too hard," says another voice from nearby.

Another of my brothers in the Red Hand, Galmedar. He sits on a stone bench with two others near a roaring bonfire. His body is nude, the firelight faint against his dark skin. The other two are also naked. Eade, shorter, leaner, and younger. Danidavid, taller, larger, and much, much older. Danidavid's chin is on his chest, and he breathes softly, his piercings glinting in the firelight. Eade's head lies on Danidavid's lap. Both are asleep.

They do not remember. They do not know.

Galmedar pats the seat next to him, opposite Danidavid and Eade on his other side. "Come, Patriarch. Relax a while." He grins and displays a mouth full of slightly yellowed tusks and teeth.

The urge to hurry away is incredible. Humans have appeared all over Perim right now. Densely populated cities will discover them first, while places out of the way, like Gothos Tower, have some time before the chaos starts. I grit my teeth and push my haste aside, though. One thing must be done, first. I need to act the part, just in case.

"As long as you promise not to speak of my weakness to Van Bloot," I say as I sit down.

"Not a word," Galmedar swears softly into my ear as he slides a hand under my breastplate.

Every life starts the same. Jakjak and I pass each other next to the fire. Danidavid and Eade are asleep. Galmedar invites me to sit with him. When I accept, he begins to lavish me with his attentions.

I close my eyes and lean my head away from Galmedar's breath, and he presses his thin lips against my neck. His hand caresses the muscles of my chest and squeezes my nipples, then drags down my stomach in a pleasurable way, all the while licking and sucking at my throat.

My heart isn't in it, but I act as I had before, a moan on my tongue and a rumble in my chest. Many lifetimes before, when I was ignorant and life was simple, I simply sat and enjoyed Galmedar's service, his love, but knowing what I know now, the quickening beat of my heart is not in arousal, but fear. Fear for his life, and for the lives of the rest of my brothers.

Galmedar's hand grasps the scapular cloth hanging from the bottom of my breastplate and tears it away, tossing it somewhere beyond the fire. "Already standing at attention," he teases as he slides off the bench and kneels down, pushing my legs apart with his hands.

"Ready for inspection," is my rehearsed reply.

Galmedar grins cockily at my face once more before he leans down and swallows me, forehead burying into my stomach. I grunt and grab at the edge of the bench. His mouth and hands do not quell my fears, but they provide ample distraction, a reprieve until the chaos ahead collides with our lives.

I stroke my brother's cheek and mutter, "Gods, I love you, dear brother." The actions and words are again rehearsed, but they were true when I first uttered them, and they remain true today.

A pause in the action, cool air on my wet skin as Galmedar raises his head. "And I you, my Patriarch."

Galmedar's smile is warm and pure. My heart seizes up, and I desire nothing more right now than to look at that glowing face of his for hours. If I mess up, if I let them down, then the faces of my brothers, of my Red Hand, the men I love with all my heart, will one day be stripped blank of thought and emotion, cogs in a vile, world-devouring machine.

I must still play my part. "Who said you could stop?" I say as I'd said in the past.

Galmedar's laugh is interrupted as I take a hold on the back of his head and push him back down on me, and he eagerly resumes his attentions. I'm holding my breath, tense and waiting, arms moving on their own to guide my brother's pace. In seconds I will know what path this life will take.

In the best world, nothing stops us, and I roar and howl as I deliver to Galmedar the prize he's seeking. We laugh, we kiss, we join our flesh again, and then I leave to do what I must, while the rest of the night passes before the chaos hits their doorstep.

In the worst world, though...

"Attention, Phalanx!"

Danidavid and Eade jolt awake at the horrid screech, and Galmedar chokes and pulls away, violently coughing up my anticipations and his own saliva. All of us scramble to our feet and stand straight, side by side. No attempt to dress or cover up our nakedness is made. When Lord Van Bloot calls, we are to answer, immediately.

And call Lord Van Bloot did. The green-skinned, blue-winged harpy approaches, barefoot, dressed in naught but a skirt of furs. His orange hair is not up in its usual tress, instead spread wildly around his face and caught in his pointed ears. His eyes, both the natural left and the prosthetic right, glare at the four of us, and his lipless mouth grinds its sharp teeth together. The muscles of his limbs and torso are tight and twitching, as if he were holding back the urge the lash out at something.

The faces of my brothers are stony and silent, but the confusion in their eyes is obvious to me. Van Bloot had turned in for the night only recently. The night was to be spent doing whatever we desired.

Van Bloot passes Eade, Danidavid, and Galmedar, giving each of them a cursory glance up and down. Then he pauses in front of me, and I can see the subtle narrowing of his eyes as he stares into my visor. He steps closer to me, still staring at my face, then reaches forward. My body jolts slightly as Van Bloot roughly squeezes my still-hard manhood and drags his grip down my length.

My brothers stare, the confusion now clear to everyone. Van Bloot steps back, still glaring at me, then examines his hand, at the saliva dripping from his fingers. "Whose is this, Atrapol?" he asks sharply.

"Galmedar's, sir," I bark.

Van Bloot looks over to Galmedar. "And why is it there, Galmedar?"

Galmedar's face is stony once again. "Captain Atrapol and I were having sexual intercourse, sir."

Eade lets out a short chirp of a chuckle, quickly silenced when Van Bloot glares his way. The harpy turns back to Galmedar. "Who initiated this?"

"I did, sir," Galmedar barks. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

Van Bloot wipes his hand against his fur skirt and sighs, "Granted."

Galmedar thrusts his chin up, and I see his throat clench as he swallows. "Have we done something wrong? You have never given our consorting a second glance before."

Van Bloot grits his teeth and growls, "No, there is no problem. A surprise inspection, that is all this was. You all performed quickly and admirably."

Van Bloot leaves, and my brothers and I relax and sit back down. The warm atmosphere is gone, though. The foul temper still lingers in the air.

So, Lord Van Bloot remembers. He knows. And he suspects me.

"Would, uh, you like to continue?" Galmedar's hand hovers near my groin, and there's an anxious look on his face.

It will be hours before anything I can do will be useful, anyway. I swallow my haste once again. "Eade? Danidavid? If you two would like to join us?"

Eade nods, while Danidavid grunts his assent. Three pairs of powerful hands peel me from my armor, hesitantly at first, then in eagerness. We writhe against each other, caressing, worshiping, and filling each other's bodies passionately. We laugh, we cry, we moan, and we drink deep our love and affection for each other.

I savor every touch, every taste, every sound, each more precious than all the coin in the world.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

I'm in the observation room, to where the many spying eyes and ears in UnderWorld City transmit sight and sound. The air is abuzz with a cacophony of screams, roars, shouting and more. Humans fighting and fleeing, UnderWorlders chasing and killing. Metal and fire and pain and death.

Perched on a seat in front of me is an imp-like figure, large pointed ears twisted forward to listen to all the transmission, large eyes staring at the images projected in a crystal-covered wall. His pointed devil tail swings back and forth absentmindedly. He is collecting, remembering, sorting the data, ready to bring information of importance to Lord Van Bloot.

He does not know I'm here. I reach forward and grab the back of his head, the fingers of my gauntlet wrapping around to his face. His hands reach up and scratch against my grip. I squeeze, and the skull cracks and crumbles under the pressure. Blood and cranial fluids spray the walls and the floor. Some escapes the gaps between my fingers, showering me with pungent red mist and twitching shreds of flesh. The body jerks, spasms, then slumps to the ground, a pool of red gushing from the neck.

I shake the creature's brains and blood from my hand, then kick aside the corpse and stool so I can search the table full of noisy crystals.

"Who is up there?" Rothar's voice, shrouded in static. One of several usually silent gems, the spying ears hidden within Chaor's palace. "No use hiding, I can see where you are!"

It is the only meaningful sound coming from the palace. I pick up the speaking stone and focus on it, blocking the rest of the din from my thoughts. The static is the sound of something scraping against the spying ear, and of labored breathing nearby.

"You have until the count of three, then I am taking you down myself! One!"

There is a cracking sound, then a small whisper of triumph.

"Two!"

There's a wet squishing sound, and the soft sound of breathing becomes a moderate roar. A heavy thumping sounds in the background. A heartbeat.

"Three!"

Another wet sound. A crash, a cry of pain. A loud thump of flesh hitting stone.

"I've got the intruder!"

A distant voice, belonging to someone else. I cannot identify the source. "Disable him! Chaor wants him alive!"

Rothar's voice again. "Understood."

I have heard enough to know that this is the one. I remove my helmet and shove the crystal into a seam, while hissing sounds emit from it.

I slide my helmet back on to hear the speech continue. "Are we to take him to the Pit?" The UnderWorld prison, of course.

"No, Chaor wants him brought to Ulmar."

I pause my advance to the room's exit. This is unexpected. There are no other sounds from Rothar or the other creatures with him, though, merely the sound of a heartbeat, steady breathing, and the sound of cloth being dragged over stone.

Finally, I hear it. Michael's voice. "I'm counting on you, Atrapol." It was so soft that I almost missed it.

"I'm counting on you, too," I respond, even though he cannot hear me.

I leave the observation room and head for the garage. I must hurry. My absence will be noticed quickly. Van Bloot will know that I've turned traitor. It's a twelve-day drive to UnderWorld City while avoiding charted land. There is much to do and not much room for error.

I love you, my brothers. Forgive me for leaving without saying farewell. Though we are now at odds with each other, I cannot wait for the day I can hold you all in my arms once again.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_And that's the first chapter of my history that I've ever written._

_You did a good job, Atrapol._

_I don't know... Perhaps I should remove the descriptions of our intimate moments..._

_Are you saying that because you want them to be private, or because you think people won't like it?_

_Well, it's so beyond what is normal for humans..._

_Don't erase a single word. After chapters of Chaor's selfish indulgence, of what he did to me? A love like the one you all shared with each other is a breath of fresh, sweet air._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	12. Change

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_You wrote about half a chapter about the first time we actually met, then stopped. Why?_

_There's a better place for that story, don't you think?_

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Change**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

As Michael grew more adept at surviving the challenges and perils Perim laid before him, things started to change. The changes usually were subtle, with the most glaring exception being about a dozen lifetimes ago, when Michael discovered official maps of the world of Perim. The very next of his lifetimes here saw a complete reorganization of the geography of the world. Locations that had been a day of travel or so away from each other, such as Gothos Tower and UnderWorld City, were suddenly vast distances apart.

One obvious change I can see now, on my second day of travel, is a small village on the northern border of the territory belonging to Van Bloot. Beyond the village lies a tunnel system, and this lifetime it seems that some group of creatures saw fit to establish themselves in this natural chokepoint.

Another obvious change is that my vehicle fucking sucks.

"Move, damn you," I growl at my steed as I give the reins a crack.

My BattleGear, a collection of animated bones assembled in a crude mockery of life, simply huffs and maintains its casual walk along the road. You would think that a skeletal steed, essentially an undead horse-like automaton, would not be so willful, but here we are.

I dig my heels into the ribs of the machine. "Fucking move or I'll soak your bones in vinegar!"

The skeletal steed rears onto its hind legs, whinnies loudly, and throws me off. I land on my back hard, and I quickly roll over and cover my head and neck with my gauntlets. The machine tramples on my back for a few moments with its hooves, then loses interest and wanders a few feet away.

I roll over again and lie on my back. Well, lesson learned. I need to work on my patience and temper again. I turn my head to look at my disobedient steed, then the other way.

A Human, a young adult by my best guess, is on his hands and knees against the slope of a decently-size garbage pile. His clothing is dirty and torn up somewhat, and small scrapes and bruises are dotted about his skin. His wide eyes are rapidly flitting between me and the skeletal steed, and there's a hunk of old meat hanging from his mouth.

The Human shuffles a little until he's partially hidden by the refuse he had been digging through. He then takes the rancid-looking flesh from his mouth with a hand and speaks. "You okay?"

"Fine," I sigh. "Just winded." I glance over at my steed again. "I suggest giving the bastard space. He was a carnivore when he was alive and he thinks he still is one."

As if just to prove my statement, the bastard in question lifts its head from its searching of a small hole near the foundations of a building. A furry creature reminiscent of a mole dangles from the steed's mouth, teeth clenching around entrails protruding from a hole in the mole's stomach.

The machine gives its head a shake, and the critter goes flying, leaving its innards behind. The machine lifts its head back as if swallowing, and the meat slides past its teeth and falls through its jaw, landing with a plop on the ground. It leans down and starts checking at that same hunk of flesh again, unaware that it was the same chunk it had already attempted to swallow just moments before.

I turn my head back to the Human. He's already scrambled over to the mole's corpse and scooped it up. Now he's partially hidden himself behind the corner of another building, eyeing me cautiously, clutching the dead body of the animal to his chest as if afraid someone would try to take it from him. In fact, that might be exactly the case.

I push myself to a sitting position, facing away from the Human, and wave my hand beside my head a little in a dismissive gesture. "Nothing to fear, Human. I have no interest in your dinner."

I stand and turn to look around. The Human is already tearing into his morsel like a starving animal. My BattleGear is still attempting to fill its nonexistent stomach. Most of the nearby buildings have no distinguishing signs or marks, save for the building the Human is near. Above its entrance is a crude carving of a hunk of meat on a bone and a mug spilling its contents. A tavern. Possibly an inn as well.

The Human disappears into the alley as I approach the building. This place has clearly not been kind to him. Perhaps I'll be able to help him, but only if I can spare the time.

I push the tavern door open and am immediately assaulted by a horrid stench, like sweat and shit and piss and vomit. The room is filled with shoddily-built wooden tables and chairs, of which about half are occupied by creatures. An empty doorway on the far end leaks steam and smoke, and sounds of sloshing liquid and clanging metal come from the room beyond. Near that doorway is a set of wooden stairs and what looks like used to be a railing.

There's a red-skinned, spiked-arm boar-man in the corner, pants around his ankles, crouching over a wooden bucket, and a look of intense concentration on his face. At a table by himself is a violet-furred werewolf of sorts, feet on the table and arms behind his head, eyes closed and snoring. A trio of naked imps perches on another table, tossing dice and squabbling as silver coins change hands. Other creatures eat, drink, and go about their own business.

My quick glance tells me that none of the room's inhabitants pose any real threat to me, and I step inside. "Might I speak with the owner of this establishment?"

The imps are the only ones who seem to notice my entry and query. All three point at the doorway spewing steam and smoke, then promptly begin to argue over whose turn was next in their game. I nod in thanks and head for the back, careful not to disturb anyone in my path.

A squat woman lumbers out of what I can only assume is the kitchen. She has the look of a goblin about her, green skin, large ears, and sharp teeth holding a thick cigar. A pair of massive breasts each the size of her head droop across an even larger stomach, one large nipple pierced with what looks like a chain link, and the other being suckled at by an infant or toddler held in her arm. Her other hand holds a steaming, dripping wooden spoon.

"What ye want?" the woman growls as she chews at the cigar in her mouth.

...That is one hell of an accent. "I would like a room for the night, and perhaps some dinner." Hopefully, my skeletal steed will be in a more tolerable mood come morning.

The woman snorts. "Servin' breakfast this morn'."

"It is late in the evening for those of us with clocks," I retort.

She rolls her eyes. "Name an' business?"

"Atrapol." No sense giving a false name. Anyone following me would just need to describe my appearance. "My business is private."

The woman taps her chest with her wooden spoon. "Grakak. Now, the upstairs room is gonna run ya five copper knuckles a night, and meals will run you one knuckle per serving. If ye are lookin' for some company in yer bed," she adds with a slight rise to her eyebrows, "I em available fer fifty knuckles." She pauses, then uses her spoon to push aside the cloth between my legs. "Ah, no, with a bleedin' whopper of a log what ye got packing, make that a whole gods-damned golden chaor."

I shove Grakak's spoon away and adjust my scapular cloth to cover myself again, then take a gold coin embossed with Chaor's face on it from my pouch. "One night, and meals. Let me know if I go over. What is for dinner?"

"Fer breakfast," Grakak corrects with a swish of her spoon, "we have hot soup 'n beer."

"Anything else?" Soup will be difficult to take to the room.

Grakak chuckles. "Sure, we also got cold soup, lukewarm soup, soup wit' beer in it, and soup wit' whatever is in the bucket over there."

She gestures over to the bucket in the corner. The boar-man lets out a loud, wet fart, and a look of relief washes over his face. Grakak laughs even louder and slaps her thigh with the wooden spoon.

"Hot soup and a beer," I say as evenly as I can manage.

Grakak disappears back into the smokey kitchen and quickly reappears, minus a spoon and a toddler, plus a bowl and a mug. I nod and take the vessels from her.

"Ye sure ye not in 'a mood for a piece a' dis?" Grakak scoops her breasts up into her hands and squeezes them a couple times with a wink. "Ye been breathin' real heavy-like since ye seen me."

What? Oh, that would be Michael's breathing from the crystal in my helmet. It had been going nonstop in my ear the whole journey, and I guess I had tuned it out at some point. "No, thank you," I say before hurrying up the stairs.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

After choking dinner down and stripping my armor off for the night, I sit on the attic's pathetic excuse of a bed with a mirror in my hands. I can already guess what I will see, having barely noticed the changes in the bodies of my brothers, but I would like to see for myself. My body has changed somewhat with every new lifetime, just like everything else has had minor changes.

My tusks are larger, more prominent, and my lower jaw juts out further. A dozen lives ago I didn't have either tusks nor an underbite. My lower lip is also thicker, and faint scars mark it. My eyes are somewhat bloodshot, and I can now see tiny threads of muscle in my red irises, golden light peeking from the spaces between them. The tops of my ears now come to an obtuse angle rather than being round, a far cry from early lives where I had no visible ears to speak of.

"You're making my brothers and I look like orcs, Michael." I bare my teeth into the mirror and snarl, then laugh. "Fitting, I guess."

There's no answer from the crystal, just his breathing and heartbeat. Not that I expected any. I hope he wakes soon, though. The silence is bothering me.

I continue to examine my body for the next while, having nothing better to do. As drowsiness begins to set in, I set the mirror aside and lay on the bed, which creaks under my weight. I listen to Michael's breathing, the clatter of the kitchen, the squabbling of the gaming imps.

For not the first time this journey, I think of my brothers, of my Red Hand. What has Van Bloot told you, I wonder? What do you think of these Humans that have suddenly appeared in Perim?

What do you think of me, brothers?

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	13. Edge

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Edge**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"What have you learned, Ulmar?"

I am awake. Chaor's voice is sounding from my helmet, from the spying ear. It's the first voice I've heard from Michael's end for some time, longer than I had been anticipating. I grab my helmet by a horn, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed, and raise the helmet to my face and stare at it.

"Much, despite your refusal to allow me to perform any vivisection."

And that scratching voice belongs to Ulmar. I feel the metal of my helmet protest in my grip at Ulmar's words, and I force myself to relax.

Ulmar's speech continues. "To put my discoveries into much-needed perspective, I need to first tell you about the qualities of the average Human, though the few subjects I have been allowed to experiment on is far too insufficient a sample size. I must insist that I be allowed access to more Human prisoners in order to gain a more precise understanding of their species. Think of how I could revolutionize our understanding of-"

"Get to the point, Ulmar," Chaor's voice interrupts icily.

"The point, right." There's a sound of ruffling papers. "The ages of the various prisoners range from five to eighty, according to the Human standard of time measurement. Further questioning reveals that the standard of time they use is called a 'year', a period of three hundred sixty-five days, just over two solans in length. That means that the range of ages extends from ten to one hundred sixty solans."

"And this matters... how?" As expected, Chaor sounds bored with Ulmar's technical explanations.

"I said I was explaining!" Ulmar snaps. "Now, turning our attention to our unconscious friend here." There's a light sound of a slap, and my helmet protests my grip again. "After examining the male Human population available to me and making observations on their bodies' changes as they age, I was able to determine the age of the primary person of interest. It would have been easier to simply ask him, you know."

"He remains asleep for a reason," Chaor growls. "Continue."

Ulmar grunts, then the sounds of more shuffling paper precede his next words. "Using radiographic imaging to determine bone density, elasticity tests on the epidermis, visual examination of dental wear, volume measurement of ejaculate after manual stimulation, and a gamete count under microscopic examination of said ejaculate, I have determined that this Human is in the vicinity of fifty to sixty solans of age."

I don't know what half of those words mean. It seems Chaor is as confounded as I am. "Why does his age matter?"

More papers shuffling. "Because of this, Chaor!" A long pause. "These are the results of this Human's psychological anima scan! Do you see?"

The long pause tells me that Chaor sees about as much in that paper as I do, and, lacking a spying eye, I see nothing.

Ulmar sighs in disgust. "Very well. Here." More shuffling of papers. "These of the psychological anima scans of the other prisoners, arranged by age. See the upward trend in complexity and range here in visual and auditory memory, with a notable deceleration as the age of the subject passes around one hundred solans?"

"Speak plainly, Ulmar."

There's a strangled cry of exasperation from the scientist. "The psychological anima of a creature grows in complexity and range as it ages because it experiences and remembers ongoing events, a process that slows as the creature stop experiencing entirely new events. This allows an estimate of the mental age of a creature. For a Human, which appears to spend a third of its day asleep, you would expect this number to be around two-thirds of its actual age. Now, take a look at the first set of data. Even you should be able to do the math."

Chaor growls at the insult, but that growl is cut suspiciously short. "This makes no sense. According to this, this Human is..."

"Is several thousand solans old," Ulmar finishes. "Quite a difference from the fifty or sixty solan-old creature you see on the table, yes?"

My fingers feel numb against my helmet. Delving into Michael's psyche is a perilous act. If Ulmar isn't careful, he risks shattering the minds of himself and his king. What is worse, he has performed nearly everything he needs to reach the damning conclusion.

Chaor's voice sounds shaken. "What would cause this?"

"Who knows?" Ulmar sounds gleeful. "And that is only a low estimate! If we take into account that experiences similar enough to a previous one cause lesser changes, it is entirely possible that the actual number is in the tens of thousands!"

More silence, broken only by the sound of Michael's breathing and heartbeat. Then, Chaor speaks. "We must know more. Disconnect the Human from these... things and-"

"No touching!" Ulmar snaps. "Removing a catheter from the urethra must be done with a delicate touch to avoid harm! Same goes for the feeding tube! Out! Out!"

I hear nothing else of value. Enlightening, and terrifying. Memories of being who learned Michael's secret in the past bubble up unbidden. Phelphor's crippling fear, Aa'une's complete descent into insanity. More creatures completely changed by the truth laid bare before them. I lower my helmet and gaze at the far wall, lost in the memory of my own discovery of the nature of existence.

...I'm not alone. Wrapped in a thin blanket and curled up in the corner of the attic is a Human. The same Human I had seen on my way into this village. His eyes are wide as he stares at me. No, not at me. The fear in his eyes might be directed at me, but his gaze is on my helmet.

"Who the hell are they talking about?"

It would be a mercy to kill him, right here, right now. It would be easy, a snap of the neck or a finger plunged between the eyes. Let this Human spend the rest of this lifetime in peaceful death, not knowing the truth, and awaken a clean slate come next lifetime, ignorant and safe. He would never see it coming, wouldn't feel pain as I put an end to his current mortality.

I had not even acted on that thought when another thought comes to me. A thought of Michael, an image of his face. Disappointed. Disapproving.

You have killed for less, the thought echoes in my mind at Michael's phantasm. The blood on your hands is thicker than even mine.

Michael's image closes its eyes, bows its head, and slowly shakes it side to side. Never for this, his silent rebuttal. Never for something like this.

The Human, whose only sin I know is that of hearing too much, continues to stare, this time at me. "Do you know?"

The intent to kill leaves my body. My mouth moves on its own, speaking my thoughts without my bidding. "A god. They speak of a god."

The Human's eyebrows pinch together, and he squints at me a little. "Sorry?"

I shake my head. "I have said all that I will." I am exhausted. It must still be late. "We will speak in the morning," I say as I lie back down.

The Human does not respond. He simply stares at me a while longer, then rolls over and pulls his meager blanket around his body.

A pang of pity shoots through my heart at the pitiful display. "Come." I pat the mattress beside me. "You must be cold."

The Human turns to gives me a look. Confusion, fear. He slowly rises to his feet, then steps closer, even slower. He gingerly puts a hand on the mattress in front of me and, still watching me, climbs on.

I wrap an arm around the Human, who gives out a restrained cry of surprise. I pull him close to me, his chest against my stomach, his face against my chest. I curl up around him and let the warmth of my body envelope him.

The Human is rigid and shaking for several long moments. Finally, he relaxes, tosses and turns about until he's facing away with his back against my front, and pulls my arm tighter around himself. His breathing slows into a steady rhythm, and soon I am certain he is asleep.

Damn it, Human. I'm already on a mission to rescue someone. Now it seems I must rescue you as well.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	14. Breathe

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Breathe**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"I don't really know what I thought Hell would be like, but it wasn't this."

I must have woken the Human, despite my attempts to rise from bed without disturbing him. His voice comes from behind me, still on the bed. There is still a hint of tension in his voice, but he seems more at ease than yesterday.

I do not answer him. I am seated on the floor, soles of my feet pressed together, hands pushing my knees as far down as I can manage them. Breathe in through the nose. Hold it in. Let the air out. Breathe in. Breathe out. My focus is on my head, a point just behind my eyes.

"At least it's not all on fire," the Human continues. "It's kind of cold sometimes, even."

My focus goes down my face. Breathe in. Breathe out. The spark of my attention traces down through my head.

"And you demons just seem so... normal, I guess." A small pause from the Human. "Hanging out at the bar, playing games. It's like, when you aren't tormenting the damned, you guys are just, well, people."

The Human is making my morning meditation quite difficult to focus on. Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus is in my throat.

"I mean, I guess you're not really like the others. Whoever heard of a demon praying?"

I grit my teeth, then speak. "It would be a delight if you would allow me a moment's silence."

I hear no reply from the Human. I breathe out in a huff, then start over. Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus on the cord on power within. Head, throat, chest, stomach, groin. Breath in. Breathe out.

There's a rustling sound, footsteps, then the vibrations of a body sitting down. I peek out the corner of my eye and see the Human beside me, a blanket draped around his body. He's adjusting his legs to match my pose, mouth taut in concentration as he attempts to force his knees to the ground as well.

I sigh and lift a hand to rub between my eyes. "Human-"

"My name's Nicolas."

"Nicolas, then."

I lean over and pull the blanket off Nicolas's body, and he shrinks away in surprise while covering himself with his hands. I then shuffle my own body around until I am facing the Human, and I motion for him to face me as well.

"Sit with your knees and heels together," I say as I demonstrate. "Grasp your ankles and pull them closer to you, not until you feel pain, just until discomfort."

Nicolas copies me slowly. He looks at me with a wordless question in his eyes, and I nod my approval.

I continue, "Now, place your hands between your knees, palms out, and slowly push your legs outward. Again, the goal is discomfort, not pain."

Nicolas hesitantly does so. His eyes are locked with mine, then darting lower down my body, then back up to my eyes. Apprehension? Intimidation? Some combination of the two, for certain. He doesn't hold the pose for long before curling back in on himself, a wince on his face and a clench in his teeth.

I attempt a gentle smile. "That was well done for a beginner. Now, if you will leave me to finish-"

"Wait." The Human hurriedly gets back into the sitting position. "I want to finish it, too."

I let out a long breath, then slide myself over to the Human's side and adjust his feet and hands myself. "Gently. Stretch, not tear."

Nicolas shudders at my touch, but complies, slowly returning to the seated pose. His skin is covered in bumps and raised hairs.

I place a hand on the back of the Human's head, and the other on his forehead. "Breathe deep. Breathe slow. Focus on the core of where I touch." I breathe deep as well. "This is the spark of wisdom, sitting deep in your head. Each wistful thought, each cunning plan, each boundless fantasy, springs from this spark. Breathe in and let the spark of your mind be bathed in it, and let out a breath soaked in your brilliance."

Nicolas shivers, and he breathes in and out, slowly and deliberately. His hair is brown, not the darkest I have seen on a Human, but dark indeed. I try to picture his eyes. Blue? That sounds right.

I slide my hands down, across his head and face, until one hand is at the nape of his neck, and the other gentle covers his throat. Nicolas breath catches, and I feel his pulse quicken under my touch.

"Breath deep. Breathe slow."

The Human shudders and obeys.

I breathe as well. "This is the spark of speed, sitting out at your throat. Each sudden reflex, each eager twitch, each whirlwind sprint, springs from this spark. Breathe in and let the spark of your voice be bathed in it, and let out a breath soaked in your stride."

His face bears small hairs, the beginnings of a Human man's beard. The lengths are uneven, signs of inexperience with a shave, to the best of my knowledge.

One hand is now at the Human's back, the other on his chest. "Breathe in. Breathe out. This is the spark of courage, sitting atop your heart. Each resolute stance, each quaking shout, each fiery roar, springs from this spark. Breathe in and let the spark of your passion be bathed in it, and let out a breath soaked in your fury."

He is not weak, but not particularly strong, either. The muscles under my fingers are tight, yet thin. His heart races under my palm, but he breathes slowly as I had said.

"Breathe in. Breathe out." My hand is further down his back, the other on his stomach. "This is the spark of power, sitting around your core. Each glorious feat, each pounding force, each desperate strain, springs from this spark. Breathe in and let to spark of your strength be bathed in it, and let out a breath soaked in your might."

He is thin. A place like this will waste him until he's nothing but skin and bone. If he is to thrive in Perim, it can't be in a place as inhospitable as this.

I begin to lower my hands again, but I pause. This is not a new brother on the Red Hand. This is a small, vulnerable Human. "And that should be enough," I say as I pull my hands away.

Nicolas's hand jerks up and briefly takes hold of mine. He lets go quickly, his hand frozen in the air. He stares ahead, breathing through gritted teeth. "I..." He takes another breath and lets it out slowly. "I want to learn the whole thing. This is how you always teach it, right?" His head turns up to meet my gaze, and his eyes are filled with both fear and focus. "Don't treat me like I'm different."

There is a story behind that conviction, I can tell. "You don't have to let me touch you," I say. "I know that Humans view touching differently than-"

"I'm not different," Nicolas repeats, fire in his eyes and force in his voice. "If I'm going to live in Hell, then I'll make myself as strong as any other demon."

This Human is a fighter, I realize. He's been living off scraps of garbage, surviving in a land and with a people that are hostile to the weak. That he isn't already a chewed-up corpse in a ditch somewhere is a testament to his resolution.

I can't help but smile. "Then let us continue, mighty Human."

Nicolas lowers his hand back to his knee and closes his eyes. He shudders at my touch as my hand reaches down and cradles soft, vulnerable flesh. I pause, and he breathes in and out before nodding.

"This is the source of energy, sitting at the foundation of your sparks. Each action, each moment, each urge, is fueled by this source."

I place my other hand on the back on his head again. "Breathe in deep," I say as I slowly drag my hand down. "Breathe through the spark of your wisdom, of your speed, or your courage, of your power. Breathe down to your source, and fill your breathe with your energy."

Nicolas breathes deeply as I instructed, chest and stomach expanding with his inhalation. His fingers are clenched tightly around his knees. I can feel his flesh throbbing beneath my hand.

"Breathe out," I command, pressing my hand into his flesh, then dragging it up his stomach, his chest, his throat, over his face. Air rushes past my fingers as they pass his mouth. "Bathe your sparks in your energy. Know your body, and let your body know you."

I let go of Nicolas and step back as I stand. The Human continues to breathe in, to breathe out, eyes closed. After several more breathes, he opens his eyes.

"Whoa." There's a light in his eyes and a slight tremble in his fingers. "That was... intense." His eyes drop down to my body, and he blushes and lowers his head. Then he flushes redder in the face as he covers his own body's excitement with his hands.

Nicolas's embarrassment is almost amusing. "Get dressed. I will make sure you get a proper meal."

The Human cringes. "I, uh, don't have any clothes."

I fold my arms and frown. "I saw you wearing clothing last evening."

Nicolas averts his gaze. "I, well, traded them in exchange for not getting beat up."

Meaning he got mugged. "Then just come with me down for breakfast," I sigh as I rub my eyes with one hand. I turn to the stairs.

"Naked?" Nicolas asks incredulously. "Aren't you getting dressed?"

I turn back the to Human, raise my arm up and clench my fist. "Solidarity!" I bark. "If you cannot cover yourself before breakfast, then we shall both eat with our spears thrust forward and our heads held high!"

Nicolas bursts out laughing, and he awkward waddles along behind me, hands still covering his groin.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Nicolas drinks from his mug of beer while eyeing his bowl of soup with trepidation. Every once in a while he glances about and hunches over his drink with a shudder.

Our presence has not gone unnoticed. The three imps steal glances at us between each hand of cards in their new game. The werewolf, now sporting a tight-fitting shirt and pair of shorts, chews on a thick, jagged bone as he stares at Nicolas. Grakak pokes her head out of the kitchen every once in a while, her eyebrows furrowed as she looks at the Human sitting opposite me. Only the boar-man seems uninterested in us, instead resting his arms and head on his table, snoring, surrounded by empty mugs.

I swallow another mouthful of soup and wipe my mouth. "Yes, it's disgusting, but it has to be better than the garbage you've been eating before now."

Nicolas glances up at me, then back down to the bowl. "The day I arrived here, a green demon drove in on this hover-car thing, badly hurt. Looked a little like the cook over there. She tried to bandage him up, but he didn't make it."

I nod. "Sometimes things like that happen down here."

The Human stares at me. "Well, um, that woman? Afterward, she chopped up the demon's body, and..." His voice trails off, and he stares at the bowl in front of him and pokes at a floating meaty chunk.

"Ah." I lift up my bowl and take another swig. "I thought this tasted a little like goblin," I say between chews.

Nicolas's mouth is hanging open, and his eyes are bulging. "That doesn't bother you?"

I swallow, clear my throat and set the bowl down. "People like us, we need to take what we can get our hands on." I point at Nicolas and his bowl of soup. "The crops can suddenly fail, the hunting can go lean, all at a moment's notice. At times like this, creatures will dig through garbage if it means staying alive."

Nicolas stares at the bowl again, looking a little green in the face.

I down another mouthful of soup. "In cities where food isn't likely to go scarce? There are burials there. Memorials. Long lines of relatives with tearful goodbyes." I gesture at the creatures around me. "Out here? A fallen loved one is another day without going hungry."

Nicolas continues to stare at his bowl, then pushes it away and downs a mouthful of beer. "I'm not that desperate."

This is definitely not the place to leave this Human. I down the last of my soup and beer, then stand. "Very well. I have hardtack in my bags to last you until we reach civilization."

Nicolas's eyes shoot up to mine. "Wait, 'we'?"

I nod. "I will get my armor on and my steed ready while you finish up."

Nicolas grits his teeth. "Er, about your steed..."

I feel my heart plummet. "Gods below, what happened?"

Nicolas says nothing, instead glances back at the bone-chewing werewolf.

I stare as well. "Gods damn it all," I growl. I hear a cracking of ceramic from the mug in my hand, and I set it down. I turn to the kitchen and march to the doorway.

Grakak emerges from the smoke and steam as I approach, again with a suckling child. "More soup? Or maybe ye changed yer mind 'n want ol' Grakak to give this log o' yers some love and attention."

I shove aside the old goblin's hand before she can touch my shaft. "I heard your late husband had a vehicle. How much for it?"

Grakak's smile vanishes, and she hoists up the child and switches it over to her other breast. "Oh, there is no amount o' coin that will make me part from that piece o' junk." She massages her reddened and swollen nipple the child had previously been sucking at. "I might be persuaded to give it up if ye do me a favor, though."

I cannot make my journey on foot. I need that vehicle. "Name it."

Grakak gives me a cold, mirthless grin.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	15. Knight

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Knight**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Before he passed, Grakak's husband had warned her about a monster in the tunnels. A beast, unlike anything he had seen before. It had made its lair in the tunnels north of the village, not even an hour's walk away. No sane creature would dare challenge the thing.

I doubt it says anything good about my sanity that I am not only heading out to meet the beast but that I'm also bringing the Human.

"You're a paladin," Nicolas sudden says.

I know the word and its meaning, but I am playing the fool for now. "A what?"

"Like a magic knight or something," Nicolas continues. "A holy warrior."

I glance down at the Human making an effort to keep pace with me. He's replaced his stolen clothing with a blanket, wrapped around his body in a strange sort of toga. Strips of cloth are wrapped around his feet like shoes, as well.

"What makes you say that?" I ask, more to fill the time as we walk than out of any sort of interest.

Nicolas points to the side of his head. "You have a voice in your helmet that comes from someone you called God. His voice plus whatever is going on around him." He puts his arms out in front of him and flexes his hands. "Your gauntlets are larger than your actual hands, and the fingers move using some kind of magic instead of being moved physically." Then he gestures at my armor. "Plus the whole iconography of your armor and the symbol on your loincloth. It all screams 'dark paladin'."

There's a lot to digest in the Human's words. "How did you discover how my gauntlets function?"

The Human's face goes a little red. "I, er, tried it on last night. Before your helmet woke you up."

I grunt and return my gaze to the road ahead. "No harm done, I guess. As for the voice, I called him a god, not that I said his name was 'God'."

I see the Human shrug in the corner of my vision. "Capital G, lowercase g, po-tay-to, po-tah-to. The point is that you hear a divine voice."

I roll my eyes. No point in arguing. "Finally, it's a scapular cloth, not a loincloth."

Nicolas raises an eyebrow. "A scapular cloth is an apron-like thing that hangs from the shoulders and drops down the front and the back. Yours is a sheet of thick cloth that just covers your dick. It's attached to the bottom of your armor, it doesn't go all the way up to your shoulders. Loincloth."

That's... interesting.

The Human's eyebrows pinch together, and he gives me a strange look. "That's a strange mistake to make, actually. Like you made a quick Internet search for the name and just picked the first thing you came across."

This conversation is getting dangerous. I need to distract him.

"You are quite observant." I look down at Nicolas, widen one eye, and shut the other halfway so that the glow of my eyes coming from the visor of my helmet mimics the expression of an eyebrow raised. "And here I was thinking that your staring at my body was with lustful intentions."

The Human jolts a little, and his face goes red again. "What? No! Ew!" He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "No, that's gay. I'm not gay. Nope." He falls silent and avoids my gaze.

It isn't long before he speaks up again. "Do you have a squire?"

The question takes me by surprise. "What?"

"A squire, or an apprentice?"

"I know the term," I snap. "No, I do not."

"Ah." Nicolas presses his lips together. "Are you looking for one?"

I don't answer with words. I simply give the Human an incredulous stare.

"I want to get stronger," Nicolas explains. "I want to learn how to fight. I might be stuck in Hell, but if I don't have to just suffer through it, if I can actually do something with my new life..." He forces his face into an expression of stern resolution. "Maybe I can be a knight like you."

"No," I state with as much finality as I can muster. "I am taking you to safer lands when I can, not dragging you around so you can live out some knighthood fantasy."

"I could start off as a page!" Nicolas insists. "Help you with your armor, your horse- er, steed, take care of your weapons-"

I turn to the Human suddenly and roar, "Silence!"

Nicolas trips, hits the ground, and scrambles backward. His face has gone white.

I step forward so I'm looming over the Human. "My brothers and I are the Red Hand. Our predecessors were hand-picked by Kiru himself to act as his personal warriors. For centuries we have done as the King of the UnderWorld commanded, only changing allegiances when another proved himself a more worthy ruler of Perim."

Nicolas is pressed against the wall of the tunnel, wide-eyed and shaking. "Be- be-"

I slam a hand against the wall near the Human. I'm crouched over him now. I can smell the terror in his breath. "Do not mock me with frivolous demands to join us, Human. Ours is a life fraught with danger. We work hard, we train harder. We craft our armor and weapons with our own hands. Our life is not one for a Human who isn't prepared for it."

"Behind you..."

I freeze, then take a deep breath. I reach into my chest with my mind, and I pour my consciousness out into the earth and stone around me.

Soft footfalls. The vibrations of each step are so small, so weak. Tap, tap, tap. Several feet behind me. Too far to strike at.

I close my eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. In my core lies the spark of power. Fill it, prime it, hold it.

The vibrations pause. Then a wave of force. A leap. A pounce. One second. Two seconds.

I turn and swing an arm, fist clenched. Metal strikes flesh, and a blur of muscle and fur sprawls sideways.

"Get behind me!" I shout, and I hear Nicolas scramble.

The creature flips to its feet and glowers at me. Large, muscular limbs, each ending in paws and sharp claws. Tusks sprout from its mouth. Its eyes glow a soft white. Spikes of bone protrude from the beast's shoulders. Its fur is red like rusted blood. Its tail swished back and forth.

The creature's mouth opens. "Meat hit us. Meat sees us."

I hear Nicolas whisper, "Oh my God, it talks."

The creature starts to circle the Human and me, and I follow it, keeping myself between it and the Human.

"So hungry," the creature spits. "Not hungry enough. Large meat protects small meat. Find other meat." Its circling begins to take it further away.

I can't let it leave. I need to deliver this beast's head to Grakak. "Coward!" I call out to it. "You are weak!"

"Meat taunts us," the beast mutters. "Tricky meat. Meat wants fight. So hungry." A long pause. "Not hungry enough."

I feel Nicolas's hand on my back. "Use me as bait," he whispers.

I had been struggling with that same thought. "If I am not fast enough, you die," I whisper back.

I cannot see the Human's face, but I can feel his hand tense up. "Isn't using me as bait why you brought me along anyway?"

I don't answer. Instead, I take a deep breath, then step aside.

The beast pauses. It looks at Nicolas, then at me. Nicolas lets out a loud whimper. Forced. Trying to sound weak.

The beast huffs. "Tricky small meat. Big meat wants fight. So hungry. Not hungry enough." It begins moving further away.

I grit my teeth. If I chase it, it will run, faster than I can. If I let it go, it might catch me by surprise again, and I might not have a warning the next time. I cannot make it to UnderWorld City in time on foot. I need Grakak's vehicle.

There's a sudden sound of a falling stream of water, and the beast freezes. I steal a glance at the sound. Nicolas is standing now. He's lifting his makeshift robes with one hand and holding himself with the other. He's... urinating.

"Big cat runs," Nicolas says, his voice shaking a little. "Big cat scared. Big cat's home now mine."

The beast bares its fangs and hisses. "Tricky small meat." It doesn't move, doesn't approach. "Small meat weak. Home is ours."

I understand. I take a step forward. "Small meat weak," I say, staring at the beast. I pull aside my scapular- ugh- my loincloth, and I wrap my fingers around my flesh and lift it. "Small meat runs. Mark home. Home is ours."

The beast snarls, and it pounces, claws outstretched. I let go of myself and raise my arms to meet it.

We collide. I fall backward, the weight of the creature more than I'd thought. My hands are on its face, its claws slide across my armor, across my skin. I try to squeeze, to crack its skull. It shakes its head free and bites at my helmet. One long tusk slides through my visor, stopping near my eyes.

I scramble for a grip on the beast's body. Its fur is slick, its muscles firm. I can't find a handhold. The beast's hind legs kick at my stomach, claws scraping down the metal and catching on cloth below. Whirling fur, hot breath, snarls and hisses. A slight pain as a claw manages to penetrate the skin on my leg.

A choking sound. The beast leaps off me. I gasp for breath and sit up.

Nicolas is on the creature's back, legs clinging to its sides, arms around its neck. It leaps and flails, rolls and squirms, trying to shake him off. He doesn't let go. A battle-cry, or maybe a scream, erupts from his lungs.

I rise up to assist. Or I try. My knee screams out with pain as I put pressure on it, and I collapse sideways.

The Human squeezes his arms tight and bellows like a maniac. The beast's flailing is slowing. It stumbles and falls sideways, legs kicking out. Its eyes are wide and rolling upwards.

Soon the beast is still. Nicolas holds on a while longer, looking around. He releases his grip on the beast and scrambles to a large rock. He lifts it up, staggers to the beast, and throws the rock down on its head. The beast's body spasms as the stone strikes it. The Human lifts the rock again, and he screams as he throws it back down, over and over.

After a couple minutes, the Human stops. He hunches over and puts his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. "Holy shit..." he gasps.

Part of me wants to scold him for putting his life in danger. I could have handled it. Could I have? Yes, I could have. I would have more injuries, but, in the end, I would have succeeded. The Human's involvement was unneeded. Another part of me, a stronger part, keeps me seated as I stare in awe at his victory. Awe and something more. That savagery, that primal rage. My heart pounds, my groin aches. It was beautiful.

Nicolas looks at me. "What do you think?" he grins between breaths. He glances down away from my face. "Ah. Um, I guess you liked that." He looks around, then lowers his head as he points to my right. "It's over there."

I look to where he's pointing. A cloth lying on the ground. My loincloth. Of course, it would have been torn away when the beast kicked and scratched at me with its hind legs. After reattaching my loincloth, I limp to the beast's corpse and hoist it onto my right shoulder, held in place by the spike on my pauldron.

"This changes nothing," I state as I turn away. "My answer is still no."

Nicolas scoffs in disbelief and rushes up to match my pace. "What the hell, man? I know you were impressed. You literally have a foot-long boner right now from watching me kill that thing!"

I make a futile attempt to drape my loincloth back over myself before quickening my pace. I do not answer Nicolas's indignant outrage as I hurry back to the village.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	16. Terror

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_Are you done playing that Pokémon game for long enough for me to write this now, Michael?_

_Sorry about that._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Terror**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Grakak is wearing a thick apron while she tinkers with the exposed engine of a vehicle. The trio of imps from the bar is at work skinning the corpse I brought with me, still squabbling with each other as they work. The werewolf is standing at the garage's exit, chewing on a piece of my old skeletal steed and staring at Nicolas. The Human is standing next to me, his arms folded and a scowl on his face.

Grakak steps back, slams the hood of the vehicle down, and wipes the sweat from her forehead off with her arm. "There. Piece o' junk should get ya to at least Underworl' City 'fore she needs more engine work."

I nod. "Thank you, Grakak."

"I should be thankin' you, mister," Grakak scoffs. "Who knows 'ow many else that bitch woulda killed without you to take 'er down." She looks at the dead cat-beast and snarls. "Least now she can do some good."

I give a slight bow to the goblin, then turn back to the vehicle. It is a rusty piece of work. Pieces of the chassis are missing, all the lights are broken, and whatever seating it used to have were replaced be warped wooden benches. Still, better than walking.

"Get in," I tell Nicolas as I climb into the driver's seat.

Nicolas scrambles up the side and rolls into the vehicle, then sits next to me and folds his arms again. He says nothing.

The less to say, the better. I reach down and pull a cord that connects to the engine, which sputters to life with a blast of hot air. The machine creaks as it lifts off the ground slightly. The surrounding creatures step clear. I sit up straight and grab a hold on the two levers in front of me, then gently push one forward and the other backward. The vehicle groans as it rotates in place. The werewolf narrows his eyes at Nicolas before stepping out of the way.

I push both levers forward. The vehicle's engine sputters, coughs, then roars, and we glide out of the garage and head into the tunnels north of the village.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Nicolas and I sit in silence. The spying ear in my helmet is speaking again, and I am listening intently. I am certain that the Human is as well.

A groaning sound and a clattering of chains come from the crystal. "Hey... Hello? Can you hear me?" A bit of silence. "Can I have something to drink? My throat is killing me."

If whomever Michael is speaking to can hear him, they do not reply. After a while, Michael speaks again. "Okay then. No drink. I bet an OverWorlder would have been more hospitable."

Nicolas glances at me with a raised eyebrow. "What does he mean by Over-"

"Shh," I hiss. I would have put a finger to my mouth if this machine had a normal steering wheel instead of these blasted levers.

A shuffling and more clattering chains sound from Michael's end. "Hello? Can you hear me?" A pause, then a whisper. "Sorry about this."

Michael's next words are then set to a melody. "I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves. I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, and this is how it goes!"

I wish I could remove my helmet right around now. This song is just that phrase, over and over. And he continues to sing, never changing the notes, over and over.

After a few agonizing minutes, Nicolas puts his face in his hands and mutters, "Oh my god, get him his fucking water already!"

The guard's patience seems to have lasted as long as Nicolas's. "Will you shut up?!" he bellows, accompanies by the sound of clattering metal.

Michael pauses his singing. "I'd like something to drink, please."

A growl, but no response. After a few moments of silence, Michael starts singing again.

Nicolas mutters, "Is he trying to get beat up?"

"It's likely," I reply.

"What?"

"To be completely accurate, I think he's trying to get the guard into his cell."

Nicolas stumbles over his words for a moment. "So that he can get beat up."

I feel a smirk form unbidden on my lips. "We can only hear what is going on. I trust he knows what-"

A wordless roar from Michael's end interrupts me. There's a clatter of metal, a click, and then a crash. "I said shut-!"

The rest of the guard's words are cut short by a cracking sound and a rattling of chains. Michael's voice strains with effort, and the guard's cries are choked, strangled. The sounds of the struggle continue for a moment, until...

"BWEEEEP!"

The high-pitched screech is enough to make me let go of the vehicle's accelerators and rip my helmet from my head. The vehicle coasts to a stop as Nicolas and I cover our ears, while my helmet lies on the floor, screaming for several seconds. Eventually, the sound stops.

When the ringing in my ears fades, I can hear Michael breathing softly and the guard gasping for breath. Another voice is nearby, drawing closer.

"-to make this cell replica exactly the same as the cells in the Pit!" Ulmar screeches.

The voice of an unfamiliar assistant replies, "I did! Exactly to specifications!"

Ulmar's voice goes even higher in pitch. "Then explain this!"

"I-I think he loosened the screws. The Pit does not usually hold prisoners his size, he could have conceivably fit his fingers into the gaps and-"

"Fix it! You, administer more amnesiatics! You, stop rubbing your throat and get back into costume! Keep writing that down! No lost data, none!"

After several minutes of clattering noise from my helmet, Nicolas speaks up again. "So, he chokes out a guard, and you're headed out to rescue him. I choke out a saber-tooth cat, that had you pinned, by the way, and you brush me off."

"My coming to his rescue has nothing to do with that," I reply as I start the vehicle moving again.

Nicolas grumbles for a while. "Why even bring me along, then?" he suddenly asks. "Why not just leave me in that dump?"

"You were going to die there," I respond. "I could not leave you there in good conscience."

"Hey, I think I was warming up to that goblin lady." The Human folds his arms as sits back heavily in his seat. "She let me sleep in the attic, at least. I could probably have gotten a job soon, I wasn't going to starve."

"The wolf-man who stole your clothing," I spit.

I can feel Nicolas's stare. "What about him?"

I glance at the Human. "He was giving a signal to the others when he did so. 'This creature belongs to me.' I defied that claim of his when I fed you, when I kept you by my side."

"Alright, maybe he would have killed me," Nicolas relents. "Then, what, Super-Hell?"

I can feel my teeth grinding together. "You are not taking your situation seriously enough."

The Human throws his arms up. "How? This is the final destination! The punishment of all sinners. Fire and brimstone, eternal punishment-"

"You are not dead."

Nicolas stops talking.

I continue, "You and millions of others of your kind were transported to this world by some force that even I do not understand. The country, this empire, calls itself the UnderWorld, which led you to believe you were in Hell. However, you are very much alive, and you are very much in danger."

"I'm not dead?"

"For now." I glance at Nicolas's pale face. "Had I left you there, the wolf-man would have eventually beaten, raped, then killed and eaten you. You were a non-person to him, a safe outlet for his urges, someone with no connections, nobody to avenge you."

Nicolas stares at the tunnel ahead of us. "Then... where are you taking me?"

"We should see it soon, reach it tomorrow. Mount Pillar, home of the Danians. A bizarre bunch, and still a dangerous place, but you will be safer there than anywhere else in the UnderWorld."

"And you can't just keep me with you because...?"

"It will be difficult enough to leave the UnderWorld with just one person in tow," I growl.

Nicolas scoffs, "I can still help you. I can fight. I can-"

I pull the vehicle's levers backward abruptly, and the sudden stop carries the Human's face into the frame in front of him. I reach over, grab Nicolas by the back of his makeshift robes, and hoist him out with me as I climb out. I throw him to the ground and climb over him, my hands on his wrists, pinning him to the ground.

Nicolas looks up at me, eyes wide, blood trickling from his nose. "Wh-what-"

I can feel the heat on my face as my eyes light up, glowing yellow with fury. "You can fight? You can fight an animal barely intelligent enough to talk, but can you fight me? If you come with me, you will be up against creatures stronger, smarter, faster than I am." I thrust my hips forward, grinding my body against his. "I could take over where the wolf-man left off, right here, right now. Could you fight me off?"

Tears are welling up in the Human's eyes. "You're hurting me..."

"I am trying to hurt you!" I roar. "I am trying to scare you! Look at me! I am a killer, a murderer, even! I have tortured, raped, and more!" I can feel spittle fly from my mouth, feel my heart pump faster, feel my flesh engorge.

I take a deep breath, and I continue in a lower tone. "You may not be in Hell, but I am still a demon. I do not share your values. I do not care what you think of me afterward. If I need to hurt you to save your life, I will. Do I need to do that, Nicolas?" I shift over him, bringing my face closer to his. "Do I need to hurt you?"

Nicolas is trembling. His eyes stare into mine, then glance down my body. The terror is plain on his face, and his breath is soaked in the sweet scent of fear. He believes me. "No," he whispers.

I release him and stand, and he shakily gets to his feet as well. "Wait in there," I order. "I must attend to myself." Nicolas silently obeys, climbing into the vehicle while I lean back against the tunnel wall and shed my armor.

A bluff. One that I am thankful he did not see through. The threat of pain was real, but my implications were hollow. I have raped before, yes. That some had been on Van Bloot's orders means nothing. I have renounced him, though, lifetimes ago, and I swore to a new master, "Never again."

My climax is tainted by dark memories. I clean myself off, get back into my armor, and resume driving. Nicolas sits beside me in silence.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	17. Parting

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Parting**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

For all of the xenophobia UnderWorlders and OverWorlders possess, we are a shockingly diverse lot. In the distant past, races of the OverWorld banded together for compassion and support, while the races of the UnderWorld joined through conquest and fear. However, not every race played this game. The deserts of the OverWorld are ruled by the Mipedian tribe, a race of reptilians, while Mount Pillar...

"Hands up!"

Mount Pillar is home to the eternally charming Danians.

I release my grip on the accelerators are raise my hands to the sides of my head. I can see Nicolas imitate me in the corner of my vision.

"Simply passing through," I state with a forced smile. "Maybe spend some gold on supplies in the meantime." I lean my head in Nicolas's direction. "The Human is staying, though."

The Danian standing in our path studies us with narrowed eyes, and his antennae vibrate slightly. His grip on his spear does not shift in the slightest as he cautiously circles the vehicle. In the distance, I can see the shadows of his support, ready to spring on us should things turn violent.

Danians are large bugs. Many limbs, exoskeleton, antennae, hooked mandibles, among other qualities. The caste of a particular Danian determines exactly what he will look like. The guards along this road are mandiblors, and they are shaped somewhat like what a Human would call a centaur, with four legs carrying a bulbous abdomen on the lower half and a more reasonably shaped upper torso.

The mandiblor pauses next to Nicolas and leans closer. Nicolas recoils slightly as the Danian's antennae brush against his face and shoulders.

The Danian turns to me. "Pay you ten ambers for him."

Nicolas flinches. "What, what?"

I laugh. "You couldn't pay me ten ambers to suck your dick, much less hand this Human over to you."

"Fifteen?" the Danian persists.

Nicolas shakes his head. "Hold on, nobody's selling me! I belong to nobody!"

I shrug. "The Human said it, not me."

"Is that so?" The Danian turns to Nicolas. "What say you to fifteen ambers, Human?"

Nicolas opens his mouth and shuts it, shakes his head, blinks a lot, then stares at the Danian. "Are you nuts? Are you asking if I'm going to sell myself to you? Like, slavery sell myself?"

"Of course," the mandiblor says in a tone that suggests he thought he was being perfectly clear.

Nicolas turns to me with his mouth hanging open and his eyebrows pinched together. Then he looks at the Danian, then back at me, then at Mount Pillar, looming ahead of us. "I thought you said I'd be safe here?"

"Safer," I correct. "And I suggest that you don't go and sell yourself to the first random Danian you meet. Find someone who offers a recurring payment and lists what your responsibilities will be, shop around-"

Nicolas squeezes his eyes shut and covers his ears. "Don't want to hear it!"

The Danian clicks his mandibles together and sighs. "Eyes will be on you the entire time, UnderWorlder. Cause trouble for Mount Pillar and your life is forfeit."

I put my hands back on the accelerators. "I understand. May we proceed?"

The Danian waves us off while shaking his head, and we sail off, toward Mount Pillar.

Nicolas uncovers his ears. "And that's just called 'being employed' anyway," he says.

"For you, for me, for most of Perim," I agree. "Not for a Danian, though. I can spend the rest of the day assisting you, but then I will be off."

"Not sure I want your help," Nicolas mutters, shrinking away from me a little. "This is insane,"

"You have seen nothing of insanity yet," I chuckle.

"Try me."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

I have to double back to find Nicolas. He is standing in the middle of the east gate, staring with his mouth hanging open. His eyes are on a pair of mandiblors off the main path. One of them has climbed on the back of the other, front legs hooked around the lower's and hands gripping the other's shoulders, bucking and thrusting against each other rhythmically.

"Hey." I snap my fingers under Nicolas's nose. "Eyes up, don't get lost."

Nicolas blinks and looks up at me. He points at the couple. "They're... are they... out in the open... what?"

I put a hand on the Human's back and drag him with me, away from the copulating mandiblors. "They're probably on break," I say.

"But, but they're..." Nicolas trails off like he doesn't even know where to begin.

I take a detour to a table off the path and seat Nicolas on one of the four chairs surrounding it. "Now that you realize just how different these people are, Nicolas, I need to explain a few things."

Nicolas stares at me as I take a seat opposite him, then down at the chair. "Why even have chairs when you're built like them?" he mutters.

I lean forward and interlace my fingers. "Let's count that as question one. Everyone gets tired of standing, Nicolas."

Nicolas raises an eyebrow. "So now you're answering questions, finally?"

I hold up two fingers. "Question two. Yes."

Nicolas blinks. "How many questions do I- wait, no, that's not a question!"

I laugh. "For the rest of the day, as I said earlier." I put my hand down and glance around. "You might want to hurry it up, though."

Nicolas also looks around briefly. "So, ah, I guess first is, what's this whole thing with the slaves and stuff? I have no idea how to ask that without it sounding weird as hell."

"Everything and everyone in Mount Pillar belongs to someone." I drag a long line in the table in front of me. "Mandiblors are on the bottom. They do most of the work around Mount Pillar, and they make up the bulk of the military." I drag another, shorter line. "Then battlemasters and... actually, I don't know exactly the order here."

Nicolas gives me an incredulous look. "Seriously?"

I wave his comment off. "Above those are the nobles, and above the nobles is the queen. Danians live their entire lives in this caste system, and it colors their views of ownership and independence. What we call employer and employee, they see as master and slave."

"So, no actual slavery, then," Nicolas says.

I lower my voice and lean forward. "Oh, there are real slaves as well. Every culture has its scum. Not every Danian treats the people they own with respect. Find someone that will take care of you, or the wrong sort will pluck you like a ripe fruit."

Nicolas glances at a group of Danians heading toward the gate and shivers. "Noted. So, ah, about the gay couple back-" He pauses, staring past me.

I look back as well to see a small mandiblor, about the height of Nicolas's waist, split off from the group, trot over to our table, and hop up on the chair to my right. In his hands is an orange stick of crystal-like material. He looks at Nicolas, then at me, and begins sucking on the... sugar-stick? Probably.

I turn back to Nicolas. "What was your question?"

Nicolas glances at the young Danian. "Maybe not in front of the kid?"

The Danian pops the sugar-stick out of his mouth and says in a high voice, "Are you talking about sex?"

Nicolas flinches. "Ah, no, we-"

The Danian interrupts, "There's sex for making babies, and sex for having fun. You're older than me, right? It's weird that you don't know this."

Nicolas blinks at the Danian child, then looks at me. "Uh..."

I tilt my head at the Danian, then raise my left hand to my face and drag a finger down my nose. "Can you help my friend here with his questions, too?"

"Sure!" The young mandiblor lets go of his sugar-stick with his left hand and traces a finger down the center of his face, then turns to Nicolas. "So, the queen lays all the eggs, and eggs need to be fertilized, right? Well, every once in a while all the nobles, sometimes some other males too, all get together with the queen, and the males stick their penises in the queen. The queen stores the semen so that she can fertilize the eggs she lays."

Nicolas keeps blinking in shock. "I, uh-"

The Danian continues, "Now, having sex is also fun and feels good. When two Danians who are old enough like each other a lot, they can play with each other's penises or put them inside each other. But only if both are okay with it. It's bad to have sex with someone who doesn't want to." He turns to me and holds out the sugar-stick. "Want some?"

Nicolas gives his entire body a vigorous shake. "Um, thank you. I, uh, already knew about... why do you know?"

I laugh. Nicolas's reaction is absolutely hilarious. "No, thank you," I say to the Danian. To Nicolas, I add, "It's not taboo for Danians. No shame, no stigma."

"And no problem letting a..." Nicolas turns to the Danian. "How old are you?"

"I turn nine solans old really soon," the Danian said proudly. He turns back to me and holds out the sugar-stick again. "Want some?"

"No, thank you."

Nicolas raises an eyebrow. "Right. And I'm guessing that I'll run into it pretty much everywhere, then?"

"Not if they're buying or selling sex," the Danian adds. "That's only for certain tunnels, to stay out of the way of people trying to get somewhere in a hurry. Want some?" he says a third time, holding out the sugar-stick.

"Sure," I say, holding a hand out. The Danian breaks off a bit off the bottom and gives it to me, and I pop it in my mouth. I was right, a sugar-stick.

Nicolas stares at me. "Hold on, I thought you didn't want any."

"Never accept a gift the first time it's offered," the Danian sings before sticking the sugar-stick back into his mouth.

I nod and shift the piece of candy into my cheek. "It's rude to accept a gift without denying it twice," I explain. "The little guy can probably explain better than I can."

"There you are!" a voice calls out from behind me.

The young Danian turns and waves. "Baba! I made friends, Baba!" He turns to Nicolas. "That's my baba. Hey, Baba, can we keep him?"

A larger mandiblor hurries to the small Danian's side. "Do not wander off again like that! I was worried!" He looks at Nicolas, then at me. "My apologies, I took my eyes off of him for just a moment, and-"

I wave my hand and shake my head. "It was no trouble, really. Your bibi was simply explaining how things work in Mount Pillar to Nicolas."

The young Danian looked up in his baba's eyes. "Talk to the Human, please? He's funny, I want to keep him."

The older Danian looks down at the younger one. "O-of course," he said slowly, as if in a daze. He shakes his head and turns his attention to the Human. "Nicolas, was it? I am Tanto. My little bibi seems to have taken a shine to you. Perhaps we can talk about selling yourself as a playmate for him?"

"I- wait." Nicolas blinks and looks back and forth between the two Danians. "Hold on, can we just talk first?"

Tanto nods and takes Nicolas's hand. "Come, I'll buy you a drink while we talk."

Nicolas stands as he half-follows, half-drags behind the older Danian. "Uh, sure. Wait, um, I mean, no, thank you?"

Tanto laughs. "I insist."

Nicolas stumbles over the bizarre Danian custom as he's led away.

I sigh, then turn to the little Danian. "How many times have you given your babas that little mental nudge these past few days?"

The little Danian takes the candy out of his mouth and folds his arms. "They keep treating me like a little kid," he says with a sour tone.

"But you are a little kid," I reply.

The Danian glares at me. "Oh, don't you start." He bites off the tip of his sugar-stick and starts chewing. "So, what's the news with Michael?"

"Not good," I groan. "Ulmar's doing behavioral experiments on him.

"Fuck."

"Yup."

The Danian tilts his head to the side. "So, what gave me away? I was about to drop the signal when you beat me to it."

"You used contractions," I grin. "Plus, I've known you for, what, two thousand solans now? It's getting easy to pick you out of the crowd, even if all you Danians look the same."

"That's racist," the Danian grins.

"Suck a dick," I reply.

The Danian perks up. "Is that an offer?"

I rub my eyes and sigh. "No, it's not. Wait until you hit puberty again. Sorry, I'm stressed out."

The mandiblor's tone softens. "Oh. He knows?"

"Yup."

"That's awful."

"Yup.

"It gets worse."

"Oh? He knows, too?"

"Yup."

"Fuck."

"Yup."

I shake my head. "I should leave. Thank you for taking Nicolas off my hands."

The Danian nods and extends a hand. "I'll see you around, Atrapol."

I take his hand and shake it. "You too, Piabo."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	18. Listen

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_Is this thing where you play video games too much and forget to let us write going to be a trend?_

_Don't pin it all on me this time. You really didn't want to write this chapter. I can tell._

_You're right..._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Listen**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Food. Clothing. Bandages. Tonics. All this and more, costing almost every coin I had. The vehicle hovers low with all the weight, the engine spitting curses at the strain, but still I drive, faster than bandits, swifter than beasts.

I drive. I listen. I wait.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Days of overheard experiments, most beyond my comprehension, others not worth the energy to remember. As I set up camp this evening, though, I hear something that drives me to give the voices on the other end of the spying ear my full attention.

"Y-your Majesty," Agitos's voice stammers. "What are you doing here?"

"I will be watching this latest experiment in person," Chaor replies. "I have read Ulmar's reports, but to see it for myself..."

Chaor's voice is... strange. Subdued. Uneasy. I have heard it in his voice before, though only in futures that no longer exist, never in each lives' shared past. He sounds almost thoughtful.

Ulmar's voice sounds out with a metallic twang, projected from some other room. "Yes, yes, but in the observation room!" The voice stops abruptly, likely at some signal I cannot see.

"Agitos," Chaor continues, "replace the wine." Ulmar's voice rises in outrage briefly, but Chaor interrupts. "A weapon is useless if you never use it, Ulmar. If this creature is what you say he is, then..."

A silence follows, then the sound of a door opening and closing. A few moments later, a rattling of chains.

Ulmar's irate voice calls out, "Chaor, what are you doing? Put those chains back on the subject."

A growl. A ruffling of cloth.

"You are introducing too many variables! Stop this instant!

"Silence." Not a shout, just a statement. Another rattling of chains, then another stretch of silence.

"Fresh, untainted wine," Agitos's voice sounds while the door creaks. "My apologies for questioning your motives, Chaor, but why are you carrying the Human's clothing?"

There is no answer from Chaor, simply a grunt and an order. "Fold these." Then the door opens and shuts.

So, Chaor personally stripped Michael of his clothing. This is just going to get worse, isn't it?

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

UnderWorld City is in sight today. I can be at any gate within the hour. As soon as I can find any kind of opening, the rescue can begin.

My hopes are high that it will be soon. During this last stretch of driving today, I overheard is little performance with various BattleGear. The moment Michael gets his hands on a diamond of vlaric, the pieces will all be in place, and he can get out of this hellish place. Right now, though, it seems Chaor has arranged for another bath.

A click of a tongue. "Ah, nothing better, yes?" A clink of metal, then a splash of water.

"Yeah, a nice jacuzzi soak is really the best way to end an exhausting day." Michael's voice is tense.

"A nice what?"

A smaller splash of water. "Jacuzzi, spa, whatever. Human thing, where the brand name for something ends up being used as its common name, or something like that."

"Right." A gruff sigh. "No, I mean, nothing better than living a life of luxury."

"That too."

"I envy you, Michael. You can have more than just one lifetime of all of this. And endless life, wanting for nothing, having everything..."

Michael's ever-present heartbeat speeds up. "Minus the whole, you know, you trying to kill me at the start of each one. I'm not sure I could handle having to prove myself to you with all Ulmar's experiments every time I start over."

"...Yes, we need to address that."

"...Kiru City gets attacked by a Mipedian Conjuror three days after Humans arrive in Perim."

Where are you going with this, Michael?

"...Yes, I heard about that. Too late to take advantage of it, of course."

Another splash of water. "That's just it. Three days is too short a warning for you to profit off of the attack, yes, but it's soon enough for you to verify!"

"So, you lead off with that on your first day..."

"And I both prove my power and earn your trust when the attack actually happens! A-assuming I actually have earned your trust, that is?"

Aha. Of course, you would have discovered an opportunity.

After a pause, Chaor speaks again. "Sit here."

Water splashes around for a while, then a sound of wood sliding across stone. "I had this whole speech prepared, where I would try to convince you that you could trust me. I had it set in my mind that you were the one who needed convincing, and now I see that you were thinking the same about me."

"Oh." A forced chuckle. "A little bit like A Tale of Two Fools, then."

Clever addition, Michael.

"I guess I can see the comparison. I was going to... well, I guess I was going to bribe you with this. Now, it is in answer to your question."

There's silence, save for a short gasp. Finally, Michael speaks. "I-I'm sorry, is that a vlaric heart? And you're just giving me it?"

"What if my precious little Human used up an ordinary diamond, hmm? You know how it works, yes?"

"Bathe the gem in flames until the sun rises. ...The frame is gold, though."

I'm beginning to feel a pit in my stomach. It sounds like Michael has missed the implication behind such a valuable gift.

A laugh from Chaor. "It comes out. One as smart you should be able to figure out how."

"Thank you. You don't know how much-"

Michael's voice is cut short by a cry of surprise, then a muffled hum. His heartbeat doubles its pace, while his breathing stops entirely.

Chaor voice sounds after an unbearable pause. "Did I startle you?"

Michael's breathing is sharp and quick. "All of a sudden the only thing I could see was the inside of your mouth! I thought you were going to bite my head off!"

"My apologies. I will be sure to treat you more gently."

More disquieting sounds of sucking flesh, then a gasp from Michael.

"You need not worry about me eating you, but do know that you are... delicious."

"Glad to hear it..." An unconvincing tone.

"I wonder how the rest of your body tastes..."

I don't want to hear this. I want to remove the spying ear from my helmet and toss it as far away as possible. I want to reach through it and strangle Chaor myself.

I can't do that, though. I need to listen. I need to spring into action at any moment and if I miss my signal, all of this could be for nothing. Instead, I sit and suffer in spirit alongside Michael, listening to his moans and cries of pain, at Chaor's grunts and roars, all into a sleepless night.

No. I won't be the one to kill Chaor. Michael should have that honor. I'll simply hold him still when the time comes. Assuming certain others give Michael the chance, anyway...

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_At least it gets better after this, right?_

_For certain values of better._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	19. Reunited

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Reunited**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"I don't like this."

I turn to my helmet lying next to me, away from the fire I had been trying to start. Michael's words coming from the spying ear do not match his heartbeat and breathing. He is putting a plan into action.

"What is it?" answers the voice of the woman that Michael called Pepper. The tremble in her voice is likely genuine.

"I don't know. It feels like... like we're being watched."

I gather up the dry branches in front of me and dump them into my bag. It will be time to move soon.

While I'm loading the vehicle, the voice of the UnderWorlder accompanying Michael breaks the silence. "We are alone. You are jumping at shadows."

Pepper's voice continues. "Perhaps you are simply tired. You should hurry back to bed."

The UnderWorld soldier grunts, "Can we get moving? I would like to get back to my post as soon as-"

The soldier's words stop with a sharp inhale, accompanied by a sound of splitting metal. A female voice shrieks out. Metal scrapes against metal, then splits again, and there's the dull clatter of an armored person falling to the floor.

The shrieking stops abruptly, followed by Michael's voice softly commanding, "Quiet."

"We-we're being attacked."

"No, we aren't."

I do not have time to wonder exactly what Michael did. The vehicle's engine is stalling, sputtering instead of roaring to life when I pull its cord.

A sound of metal striking stone, then the woman's voice. "You... you killed him."

"I did." There is no concern or remorse in Michael's voice. "We need to go."

I pause my attempts to start the engine, then groan. Damn it all, Michael, you're taking her along with you, aren't you?

I pull the engine's cord again, frustration fueling me, and it finally rumbles idly. I place my hands on the accelerators and nudge them forward, and the vehicle begins a gentle glide in the direction of UnderWorld City.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

The clatter of an alarm bell sounding through the spying ear makes me almost miss the next words that come through it. "You have my silence. Please, let me go."

Michael's voice is much clearer. "No, you're coming with me."

"I am a servant, a slave. Worthless as a hostage. Release me, and I will set them on a false path, I swear."

"This isn't an abduction, it's an escape. We're going to get out of here together."

"Where do you think you can go? Every door will be watched, and even if you did find a way out, this is the heart of UnderWorld City. You cannot possibly escape the notice of the entire city."

"Not if we avoid the streets,"

"The rooftops are just as guarded, and there are worse things than guards in the sewers."

The speaking stops, and once again I can only hear bells, heartbeats, and breathing. The latter two, though, they've slowed. Michael is focusing on something, planning his next moves.

His voice breaks the silence. "Twelve feet down, not to the sewers, just above them. Then, follow the ceiling bricks of the sewer south, along the main road. Past the main gate, then east, in the blind spot of the city walls."

The woman's voice answers, "What are you saying?"

I don't register whatever Michael's reply might be, as I'm already reaching into my bag for writing tools as the vehicle coasts. I sketch out a rough image of the lands around UnderWorld City.

Blind spot, blind spot. There.

I circle part of the map east of the city's entrance, directly along my path. A narrow strip of land difficult to see by anyone who might be keeping watch. Useless for an invasion force to try to utilize, but one or two people trying to remain unseen? Perfect.

I wedge the crude map into a panel in front of me, then grab the accelerators and push forward.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

I have been waiting for hours. I am sitting at the designated point. Well, not a point, a stretch of land, but I can see the entirety of the blind spot from where I sit. I can easily reach Michael and his little guest once they've reached here. I might even hear them if they tunnel near my position.

...The lack of sleep is getting to me. I take off my helmet and set it aside, then rub my eyes and slap the sides of my face a little. No rest, not yet. As soon as Michael and I have reunited, not any sooner.

Nope, still groggy. I stand and drag myself over to my vehicle. Waterskin, waterskin, there one is. I take a long gulp of lukewarm water, then pour some over my head. Ah... That should help.

I sit back down and put my helmet back on my head-

"Do it!"

I jolt in surprise, completely awake. Michael's voice had been a shout.

He continues, "The rock is a few inches, maybe a foot thick. I don't know how far off course we've gone. Listen closely."

"You are making no sense! Have you gone mad?" Pepper's voice cries out in disbelief like she thinks Michael is crazy.

"Keep hitting the ceiling! Make noise!"

"Noise?!"

Off course? Ceiling? Did the diamond run out? Thoughts for later. I roll over so I'm on my hands and knees, and I close my eyes and focus on the stone below me.

The floor is shaking. It is always shaking, just a little, but if you listen, if you feel the earth sing, you can tell which vibrations do not belong. There, beyond all the static. Two sets of pulsing waves, coming from the same direction. One set has a strong, smooth rhythm, the other, weaker and frantic.

I stand. Now that I've found what to follow, I can feel it with my feet. I step, eyes still closed, making sure that I keep going a direction where the shaking grows stronger.

Minutes pass. The woman's voice despairs, "I cannot do this. My head is spinning, my eyes are on fire. You killed us, Human. You just had to escape, had to leave. Had to drag me along."

"No." Slam. "I'm." Slam! "Not!" Slam! "Done!" SLAM!

I open my eyes. I heard that last one, just ahead.

I kneel on one knee and place a hand on the ground. The stone here is a little more than a foot thick, easy for me to break through, but the ground below that is unstable. Once I've opened a path, it will not be long until it is swallowed up again.

Michael's voice bellows out twice, once in my helmet from the spying ear, and once from the ground below me, stone shaking with each syllable. "I! RE-! -FUSE! TO! DIE! A-! -GAIN!"

No time for a better plan. I will the earth below me to break, and it does.

The floor heaves, and I lose my footing. The stone floor has shattered into sharp gravel and is now pouring into a cavern below me like water down a drain. I scramble to stay above the surface, lest I be buried as well. My eyes are wide, stinging with dust, while I search for any sign of Michael.

The chaos stops as soon as it had started. In the bottom of the bowl of rock, a hand sticks out of the earth, fingers clawing at the stone around it. I push myself down the slope, take a hold of the hand, and pull.

Michael's head erupts from the ground in a shower of gravel and dust. I hear him gasp for breath. I release his hand and hook my hands below his shoulders to pull him the rest of the way out.

Michael stumbles and falls face-first on the broken ground. One hand fails to catch him, while the other is behind him clutching a smaller hand.

I pry Michael's hand off the other and pull it as well. A second figure comes from below the ground, light enough that the one effort is all I need. I let go of her, and she also collapses, next to Michael.

The woman coughs. "We... We are alive."

"Yes," Michael gasps.

"Someone... pulled us out... Saved us." The woman rolls to her side. "Who?" She turns her head toward me, and her face fills with despair. "...No..."

I can worry about her later. Someone else has my full attention. I step above Michael, who rolls to his side as well as turns to face me.

His hair and beard, normally black, are so choked with dust that they match the light tan of the stone he's lying on. His face is paler than usual, and his eyes are bloodshot. Gray shirt, shredded and bloody. Jeans with fresh holes in the knees. The Human before me is an absolute mess.

I crouch down and lean closer. "Hello."

He nods. "Hello to you, too."

I want to give him a piece of my mind. He brought someone else along. After everything I said to the Human from earlier, I'm going to end up carting a spare with us anyway. Infuriating! But... no. How could I expect Michael to do anything less?

The tension is broken, and I cannot help but grin. "Up your nose, Michael? All the places you could have put a spying ear, and you shove it up your nostril?"

Michael's face breaks out into a grin. "Not a lot of places I could have hidden it where it couldn't be found."

Again I hear his voice echo from within my helmet. I point to where the spying ear is hidden. "Okay, sure, it did the job. I heard every word you and everyone around you said, but I also had a front-row seat to your every bodily sound as well." I shake my head vigorously. "Do you have any idea how loud you breathe?"

I step back and help Michael to his feet. He turns to the Woman, Pepper, and while he helps her up he says, "By the way, you're an asshole. Leaning forward, glowering like you're about to kill us."

Okay, that is fair. I laugh and give Michael a light punch in the chest when he turns back toward me. "We can discuss how much of an ass I was later. My vehicle isn't far. I have food, water, fresh clothes-"

Michael's body suddenly pitches forward, and I quickly catch him before he hits the ground again. "Thanks," he mutters, eyes unfocused, "but I think what I need most right now..."

Michael sags in my grip, his head rolling forward. His breathing is slow, his heartbeat steady. I lay him down gently, then turn toward the small OverWorlder he dragged along. She's shaking, her eyes wide, her arms clutched tightly around her chest, her tail wrapped around her waist.

"Do not be afraid, Pepranithalint," I say, recalling her name from when Michael had asked it. I crouch down in front of her, disengage my right arm from its gauntlet, and hold my bare hand out to her. "My name is Atrapol, and I am Michael's humble servant."

Pepper glances at Michael, back up at me, then at Michael again. "And... who IS Michael. What is he, that Lord Van Bloot's greatest warrior calls himself a Human's servant?"

I put my hand back down and turn to look at the sleeping Michael as well. Nicolas asked a similar question more than a week ago. The answer still hasn't changed.

It is not the answer that I will be giving today, though. Instead, I say, "He is the most important Human in all of Perim."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**_End of Act II_**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_That was an interesting experience. My apologies that I took so long between chapters._

_You did great, don't worry about it. Are you sure you don't want to write one more? Make it an even ten?_

_Well, I got to where you left off. It's about time people started hearing from you again. Plus, I would really rather you handled writing about the absolute mess that's coming up._

_That's fair._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	20. Danian - Oath

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_**Act III: Danian**_

**Oath**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

My name is Michael, and I've had one hell of a morning. In the past few hours, I've been molested and raped, faked an ambush, killed a man, basically kidnapped a woman, and dug through miles of dirt and solid stone to escape. You probably know all of this already, though. If you didn't, then why are you starting on chapter twenty?

I'm getting off-topic. Basically, life sucked for a while. It's getting better, though. I've finally managed to meet up with an ally of mine. An UnderWorlder by the name of Atrapol.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

I lean closer to the fire and pull the rough towel tighter around me. Hanging on a makeshift drying rack of sticks and stones are my jeans and underwear. In the fire, among the burning branches, is my poor gray t-shirt. There wasn't any saving that thing.

"At least I still have the real one," I say as I glance past the fire.

Atrapol sits on the other side of the flames. He glances up from what had been distracting me, then glances sideways at the makeshift shower erected nearby. "You should take more care in what you say with innocent ears nearby."

I look over as well. Hidden by a hanging sheet is the third member of our little group, an OverWorlder I call Pepper. I took her with me during my escape, but otherwise, we have no connection.

"She shouldn't be able to hear me," I argue briefly. "Yeah, you're right."

Atrapol doesn't answer. His attention is back on the pile in front of him. The firelight reflects in his eyes, shimmering with the flicker of the flames, as well as something else.

I stand up and walk around the fire to sit next to him. "It's up to you, Atrapol."

Piled at Atrapol's feet, between him and the fire, is his armor. The armor of the Gothos Phalanx, the symbol of his oath to Lord Van Bloot. The face carved into the armor snarls up at us, the shadows from the firelight almost making it appear alive at times.

Atrapol leans down and picks his helmet up. He rotates it around so that the visor is facing him, and he rests the metal in his lap and stares where the wearer's eyes would be. "I despise him," he mutters. "All that he's done in lifetimes past, he is a vile, disgusting man. A monster."

I press my lips together. "Er, just checking, you're talking about Bloot, right? Not yourself?"

Atrapol blinks, and a grin spreads across his face. "Ah, yes. I can see how that could be interpreted that way." He shakes his head and looks back down at the helmet. "He knows, Michael."

I nod. It's the third time he's said that. I don't say anything, though.

Atrapol's eyes harden. "He knows, and I cannot even just say that maybe it will be different this time. He has always worked against you, against us. Betrays the UnderWorld, betrays Perim, betrays my Red Hand." His hands are shaking, fingers tightening on the helmet.

There is a long silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the nearby splash of water from the shower. "So," I say after a while, "what are you going to do?"

Atrapol's hands stop shaking. A drop of water splashes on the helmet. A tear.

"I cannot go back to Gothos Tower after delivering you from the UnderWorld." Atrapol squeezes his eyes shut and rubs them with his wrist. "I cannot pretend to be on his side, not when he knows. I cannot bring my brothers with me." He turns his head and looks into my eyes. "This will be the first time I have done what comes next without them."

"You can wait," I offer. "Until you get them back, once they're ready."

Atrapol looks back down at his helmet. "...No." He stands up. "I will not wait. I have worn the colors of my sworn foe for too long already. We do this now."

I nod. "Okay then." I stand up and face Atrapol, and he faces me.

Atrapol has always been one for ritual, a trait he shares with the rest of the Red Hand. For me, it is enough that I know that Atrapol has sworn his allegiance to me, but for him, it is an oath he must make with every new lifetime. An oath to me, and an oath against his former master.

I slide the towel off my shoulders, then take one of the tunics Atrapol got from Mount Pillar and slide it over my head. Hardly the garb of a lord, but it's the best I have right now. I straighten the cloth on my body, then fold my arms and look back at Atrapol. "I'm ready."

Atrapol does not get dressed, instead standing naked. He doesn't have anything else to wear, and even if he did, he would not wear it for this. Instead, he holds the helmet out toward me.

"This armor I made as an oath to the family Van Bloot, the house of Gothos. With this armor, I swore that, as long as their line was the rightful ruler of the UnderWorld, I would serve them with even my dying breath."

Atrapol brings the helmet to his chest and places his palms on either side of it, wrapping his fingers around until almost all of it was concealed by his hands, save for its large horns.

"Lord Van Bloot, last of the house of Gothos, has broken his oath. He is not worthy of the throne. The line of Bloot is broken. I am sworn to them no more."

Atrapol squeezes his hands, and the metal of the helmet collapses in his grip. He holds the mangled hunk of metal over the fire and drops it. It twists further, melting away as though the flames were many times hotter than they really were.

Atrapol picks up his breastplate, its snarling face facing me. "I shaped this metal with the hands that would work performing the will of the family Van Bloot, the house of Gothos. With this metal, I swore that, as long as their words were true and their might pure, I would serve them with even my last drop of blood."

He starts pulling his arms away from each other, and the metal of the armor groans. "Lord Van Bloot, survivor of the house of Gothos, speaks lies with every breath. His heart is not pure. The word of Bloot is broken. I am beholden no longer."

Atrapol tears the metal like it was paper and tosses it into the fire, where it curls up and crumbles like a dying spider.

He picks up his loincloth, a pentagon of thick fabric embroidered with an intricate border and symbol. "This symbol is the crest of the family Van Bloot, house of Gothos. With each stitch, I swore that, just as they would increase their might to encompass and rule all of Perim, I would serve them until even the end of time."

Atrapol bundles up the cloth and squeezes it in his hands. "Lord Van Bloot, defiler of the house of Gothos, bent his knee to an enemy of all Perim. He has betrayed the people he sought to rule. His will is weak. I serve no more."

He twists his hands, and the fabric frays and tears until it is in two pieces. He tosses it into the flames, where it ignites and vanishes as fast as burning silk.

Atrapol drops to one knee, puts one hand on the ground near it, and the other hand on his other raised knee. He bows his head and swears, "I, Atrapol of the Red Hand, do swear my every breath to you, Michael, Highest of the Humans. I, Atrapol of Blackstone Desert, do swear my lifeblood to you, Michael, The Undying One."

He lifts his head and looks me in the eye, and I sigh. I've long ago given up on him omitting his personal addition to his oath, one he swears in private, away from the rest of the Red Hand.

"I, Atrapol the Dream, do swear my soul to you, Michael, The Dreamer, God of Perim."

I bow my head to Atrapol and extend a hand to him. "Rise, Atrapol, Son of Perim."

A third voice calls out, "Sorry, God of WHAT?"

Atrapol's head jerks over to the shower, while I groan and close my eyes for a moment before looking myself. Pepper's head is poking out from behind the privacy sheet, water dripping from her large ears and white fur. Her eyes are wide and her whiskers are twitching.

"You should take more care in what you say with innocent ears nearby," I mutter.

Atrapol lifts his hand up, places it on my chest, and pushes me so that I trip and land on my butt.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	21. Stars

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Stars**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Fortunately, all Pepper seems to have heard was the "God of Perim" part. Unfortunately, she DEFINITELY remembers the "God of Perim" part. None of Atrapol's explanations to the contrary have persuaded her so far.

I'm probably not helping all that much, to be honest.

"Is that why you can manipulate earth?" Pepper asks while she ties a rope around the sticks that used to be the shower frame. "You being a god, I mean?"

I flash a grin at her. "Call me the King of Dirt." I resume sealing up the waterskins that were used for the shower. "But no. Atrapol there can manipulate earth as well, and you don't hear me calling him a god." If she hasn't attributed that power to the vlaric heart I'm wearing, then she doesn't need to know.

Pepper stands up and folds her arms. The pout on her face is almost adorable. "I know you are taking me less than seriously. There is much that you have yet to explain."

I stare at Pepper with as much deadpan as I can muster, but she doesn't budge, instead matching my look with a glare of her own.

The escape from the palace has done wonders for Pepper. She had broken down sobbing with gratitude when I gave her one of the Danian-made tunics Atrapol brought for me, and, although her first reaction to a surprise is still to cower away from it, she has gotten quite bold in her newfound freedom.

A boldness she is putting to use on me. "You have not denied that you are a god."

"Haven't confirmed it either," I shrug. I pick up the bundle of sticks in one arm and the waterskins in the other, then make my way to the hovercar. "I don't see how it's important."

"I... You..." Pepper interrupts herself with a wordless growl of exasperation. "The UnderWorlder denies that I heard correctly. I know I did. You deny that it is important. But it is!"

Atrapol is sitting near the hovercar, already done with all the packing he was in charge of. He shoots me an apologetic grimace.

Pepper marches past me the stops in front of Atrapol. "So, what DID I hear, then?"

I drop the last two items into the back on the vehicle, then turn to the two creatures and lean against its chassis. "You're getting a little bit power-high, Pepper. You might want to take a deep breathe and calm down a little."

Honestly, the contrast is hilarious. Pepper is a red-eyed, white-furred ratwoman nearly as tall as I am. She has basically no muscle, is built like a twig, and in general looks as if a stiff breeze could knock her over. Flinching away from this entirely unintimidating creature is Atrapol. He's half again as tall as I am and built like a freaking mountain. Hairless, jet-black skin, yellow and red eyes that glow in the dark, and muscles that look like they could block bullets.

Pepper glances at me. "What are you laughing at?"

"Atrapol's face," I answer.

Atrapol raises what would be an eyebrow if he had any. "Charming." Then his face becomes grim. "Michael, we should check whether your ruse succeeded."

Right. "Yeah, we should."

Pepper's eyebrows pinch together. "Which ruse?"

"I need to see whether Chaor believes I escaped on my own or was kidnapped," I answer while I walk over to where Atrapol is sitting.

Pepper shakes her head. "You left no witnesses. What else would he think than that you killed that soldier and escaped?"

I think I'll just explain that little detail later. "Make room, Atrapol."

Atrapol spreads his knees apart and crosses his ankles, and I step in the diamond of his legs and sit down, my back against his stomach.

"Uh." Pepper stares at the two of us. "What are..."

"I need a psychic's help to do this," I explain without really clarifying anything. "Doesn't matter how strong a psychic, but Atrapol here only barely qualifies. Close contact helps."

Atrapol wraps his arms around me and tucks my head under his chin. Pepper's face turns pink under her fur. "I, um, but he's... naked... and..."

"Good point." I twist my head up as far as I can so it's clear that I'm speaking to Atrapol. "Make yourself some clothes as soon as possible, okay?"

Atrapol grunts. "The sooner we finish this, the sooner I can work on that."

I face forward again and close my eyes. I focus on my breathing, on Atrapol's as well. In. Out. Breathe in sync. With all my practice reset in this new lifetime, the less discord, the better. In. Out.

I hear Atrapol's heart beating. I feel my own. Let the world around us fade away, just breathe and listen. In. Out. In... Out...

Now. Eyes open.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

I can do something nobody else can do. Even the might of the greatest creature in Perim pales next to this. In the wrong hands, it can be a terrifying weapon. It can, and in some past lifetimes, it has.

Stretched out before me is an expanse of stars. Each of them is a mind, a life, the entirety of a person's being, from birth to this very moment. All of history lies before me. This life's history, anyway. Because of who I am... of WHAT I am.

I feel a shiver of lightning run across me. Across Atrapol. He knew what he would see, and the sight is still too much for him.

"I can feel myself coming apart," he whispers.

I don't hear it, not with my ears. I don't have any here. I just know what he says. And I know that he is right, as well. His mind is flickering, losing itself.

Hold on, Atrapol.

I close my will around him, pressing the pieces of his consciousness together. He lets out a sigh of relief, a sigh that feels like ice-water.

"Thank you."

How much do you think you can handle.

"I do not know. Enough, I hope."

A few as we can, then. The soldier that I killed, him first-

"What?"

...I did not learn his name.

Without a name, searching this sea of stars might be too much for Atrapol. The next best one, then.

The stars shift, and in front of me twinkles the mind and soul of my second choice.

"Him."

You know I'd rather not, but I need to know.

Atrapol's hesitation is wordless but clear.

I take the star and feel its path. Not too far. Hours at most. I would rather not have to sit through too much of this creature.

"I am not looking forward to this."

Neither am I.

I dive in. I feel the mind grow, time rushing through me. I lose myself in it, a spiral of thoughts and sensations. Faster, further, more and more, until I am reliving the life of another...

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

You love this, Human. I know you do. The proof is splattered all over your chest and stomach.

The Human called Michael clutches at the sheets. His teeth are bared, his eyes screwed shut. His chest heaves with each breath.

I tighten my grip on his hips and thrust forward again and again. Gods below, he is so tight! If I could bury myself deeper, I would, but the Human might break. Plenty of time to train him, though.

It is too much. I roar, my chest shakes, my seed flows. The Human lies limp, brought low in ecstasy, no doubt.

I roll onto my back, cradling my little treasure, still seated on my girth. More valuable than all the gems in the UnderWorld, he is. Mine, now, and every now forever. He will tell me the secrets of Perim, and I will shower him with whatever he desires. The choicest of meat, purest of gold, rawest of my passions, all his, and all of his will be mine.

Bells. Damned bells. I am trying to sleep with my Human.

...Where is he?

One of my guards bursts into my chambers. "Lord Chaor! There has been a murder!"

"Where is Michael?!" If the dead creature is not him, then the dead can wait. Where is he?!

The guard stammers, "The Human? I do not know. He and one of the slaves are missing."

An escape? No, he could not have. We bared our hearts to each other. I drank of his seed and filled him with mine. A lie? Could it? "How long ago was this discovered?"

Behind the guard is one of the men who stands posted in front of my chambers each night. "I last saw the Human heading away with the missing servant and the victim."

Impossible. But, maybe. "Bring me a mugic." They will know which I refer to.

No time to get dressed. Every second counts. I must hurry to the scene.

The dead creature has already been prepared when I arrive. A guard presses a red crystal into my hand, then backs away. It is the one.

"Song of Revival! Return my servant to life!"

The creature's body erupts into sound and light, white, yellow, and red. It fades, and before me he lies, whole and alive.

He does not yet finish his first breath before I am upon him. "What happened?!"

"We were attacked!" The creature cowers in front of me. "The Human said he felt as though we were being watched! I saw nothing, neither did that OverWorlder, but then I was struck from behind!"

An invisible attacker. The Mipedians. But, no. It does not match. Made to look as if it were done by Mipedian hands? I see the weapon. Stomach, chest, and neck. Those had been the wounds. Who would be so precise, yet so savage?

"Find Agitos and wake him. We have much to discuss."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

I gasp for breath with lungs I don't have as I spiral out of Chaor's memories. It takes seconds for the sensations to fade, seconds too long for my liking.

"I do not know how to call this," Atrapol's thoughts muse.

Me either. At least he seemed to buy it for now. Hopefully, I didn't burn that bridge.

"Do you WANT that bridge?"

Not really? Still, better to have and not need.

"I think I have enough for one more."

Van Bloot? Or, you said Piabo told you-

"I must know what Van Bloot told my brothers."

I don't answer. I simply take us to a new star. Touch it, feel it, dive in-

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

I open my eyes. I'm not in Bloot's memories. I spent only a fraction of a second in there. Long enough to know how much trouble we were in, though. "We need to move. Now."

Pepper looks baffled, but, hops into the hovercar without arguing. I scramble to my feet and climb into the back, along with the gear, while Atrapol rushes to the driver's seat. He reaches down and pulls the engine's cord.

The engine sputters, coughs, and falls quiet.

"Damn it!" Atrapol punches the hovercar's chassis and leaves a huge dent in the metal, then tries starting the engine again. "At least to UnderWorld City, not EXACTLY to UnderWorld City! Start!"

Pepper lets out a squeak and covers her mouth. I also see what she sees, and my stomach rises into my throat.

The fraction of a second that I had seen in Van Bloot's mind was him watching another of the Red Hand riding away from Gothos Tower. We thought we had the distance to spare, time to rest. We did not.

Riding on a skeletal steed, trotting slowly toward us, is a figure clad in the same kind of armor Atrapol just destroyed. His eyes blaze yellow, and an unnatural wind carries dust in his wake.

"Jakjak," Atrapol whispers.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	22. Chase

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chase**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

My first experience with the Red Hand, many lifetimes ago, did not go smoothly. Their minds had been twisted beyond recognition, and still, they had easily overpowered me. I only survived because of the arrival of some friends.

There's no cavalry coming this time.

Atrapol starts to stand, and I reach forward and grab his shoulder. "No."

Atrapol brushes my hand away. "Get the engine started, get away from here. I will hold him off as long as I can." Before I can say anything else, he steps out of the hovercar and starts walking toward Jakjak.

If I can start the engine now, then maybe I can grab Atrapol before anything starts. I climb into the driver's seat and yank on the starting cord. The engine snorts in contempt. Damn it.

Jakjak pulls on the reigns of his skeletal steed, and it stops and tosses its head a little. He slides off his back and takes a few steps forward. He and Atrapol stop a few paces away from each other.

Jakjak breaks the silence first. "Where is your armor, Atrapol?"

"Gone," Atrapol replies. "Brother-"

"Do not call me brother!" The ground around Jakjak ripples and dust erupts and hangs in the air.

Atrapol flinches. "I have not betrayed you. I have not betrayed ANY of you."

Jakjak's eyes blaze brighter beneath his helmet, and the dust around him rushes forward and slashes across Atrapol's face, who staggers back like he was punched.

Jakjak takes a step forward. "Lord Van Bloot has ordered your death. Submit, and I will simply perform your exile. I can say I never found you. That much I can offer, in memory of the bond we once shared."

Atrapol wipes blood from his face. "I won't let you lay a hand on Michael, Jakjak."

"Stand down."

Atrapol looks down at me in shock. I don't remember getting out of the hovercar, don't remember grabbing his arm. I just know that I can't let him do this.

Atrapol grits his teeth. "Do not interfere-"

"Atrapol," I growl, "this is an order."

Atrapol closes his mouth. Jakjak stares at me in incredulity. I can hear Pepper whimpering in fear behind me.

I drop my voice to a hiss. "You are going to die if you fight him. You have no armor. You're exhausted. And then, once he beats you, he'll easily get at me."

"Then what do I do?" Atrapol asks, matching my volume.

I glance back at the hovercar. "Get that running. Get to Kiru City. Get help."

I can see a thousand questions flicker in Atrapol's eyes, but he relents, backing away. Jakjak takes a step forward and stretches an arm out. "We are not done, Atrapol!" The floating dust surges toward us, spreading like a hand.

I focus on the diamond I wear, on the power it renewed in the fire overnight. I hold out my hand, and the dust stops and settles. Jakjak stares at me, and he pulls his arm back a little.

I fold my arms over my chest. "You are done, Jaquez."

Jakjak doesn't react to my use of his real name. "Are you coming with me without struggling?"

I really hope Atrapol's doing what I told him to. "Do you swear that nothing happens to Atrapol, that you won't pursue him?"

Jakjak is quiet for a few moments. "His position must be stripped from him. I must perform his exile."

"Not going to happen," I say as I focus again on the vlaric heart.

"So be it."

The ground below Jakjak surges upward, launching him into the air. He pulls his arm back, dust rising up and collecting around his fist.

I lift up my own hands and focus on the earth around Jakjak. Not the dust. His armor. I push my hands forward, and I send power into his helmet.

Jakjak flips backward in midair. He flails about, trying to right himself. I take a few steps to the left, and Jakjak lands ungracefully on his back where I had been.

Jakjak shakes his head and leaps to his feet. "How did you-?"

I swing an arm to the left, and Jakjak goes sprawling as his armor violently tosses him. Another shove and he continues to tumble.

I can't keep this up. Metal is difficult to move, eats away at the power in the diamond quickly. I don't need to keep it up for long, though, just long enough.

I hear the hovercar's engine strangle itself behind me, then finally start to rumble.

Jakjak pulls himself up to his hands and knees. "No!" He raises an arm up and aims it at the hovercar, spectral chains forming around his wrist with an ethereal rattle. I clench a fist and raise it, and the chains' launch goes awry as Jakjak's gauntlet jerks upward and fires his attack into the air.

The hovercar surges past me. For a split second, I can see Atrapol's pained expression, Pepper's terrified face, and then they are gone, sailing away to the north.

Jakjak scrambles to his feet and runs to his skeletal steed. I focus on his boots, swing my arm, and Jakjak goes sprawling to the ground again.

"Damn you, Human," Jakjak spits.

I don't answer. I'm running to his steed myself. I leap up onto its saddle, wrap my arms around its neck, and kick its ribs with my heels as hard as I can. The skeletal steed whinnies and rears, trying to throw me off, then bolts east.

Jakjak spits out another curse, and I chance a glance back at him. He looks at me riding away, then at the hovercar, already so much further. He gets to his feet again and starts running toward me.

I grin. Not a particularly thrilled grin, but at least everything is going well. As well as it can be, anyway. I've already half-drained my diamond, and I only barely remember how to control this stupid undead horse-thing.

"Get back here!" Jakjak bellows.

I hear another ethereal clatter, and I lean right, steering the skeletal steed away from another spiral of spectral chains. Instead of an answer, I grip tighter to the steed's neck with one arm while swinging my other wildly behind me. Behind me, Jakjak lets out a cry of alarm and a grunt of pain, but I don't spare the time to see exactly what I accomplished.

Keep running. Keep him running. Keep him following.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

I don't know how long I've been leading this chase on. Hours at least. My arms and legs are bruised, sore from the rough galloping. My mouth is dry, my eyes burning.

I've been making sure that I haven't left Jakjak too far behind. If he's too far away when I check, I slow down a little. If he's almost close enough to be able to aim, I speed up.

Actually, where is he? I look behind me again, off to the sides as well. No sign of Jakjak. There isn't anywhere that he could have hidden since the last time I checked. I pull back on the reigns a little, slowing the steed to a walk so I can look around better. Still nothing.

Before I can figure out what to do, a storm of dust kicks up to my right. A shadow darts through it, running closer. It leaps into the air, carrying the dust with it.

The figure draws a fist back. I let go of the reigns with my left hand and push toward it.

The storm of dust blasts apart as a breastplate flies out the back of it. Out of the front tumble a helmet, gauntlets, and boots. Sand and stone pour from where a body should have been. A decoy!

The ground to my left explodes. I turn, too late. A spectral chain launches from the ground, wrapping itself around the skeletal steed, around me. The steed collapses like a puppet with cut strings, spilling me out of its saddle. I try to stand up, but a weight hits my back and pushes me back to the ground.

"No more running," Jakjak's voice growls.

I press my hands to the ground. No response, no song. I focus on my diamond. Nothing. The same chains which disabled the skeletal steed have gotten to my vlaric heart as well.

The pressure on my back releases, and a sharp kick to my side flips me over. I suck in air from the pain and squint up with blurry eyes.

Jakjak, almost identical to Atrapol without his armor. Of course, he figured out that it was more of a hindrance than a help. He puts his foot on my chest and stomach and presses down, and all the air escapes my lungs.

"A diamond of vlaric." Jakjak bends over and grabs the gemstone, snapping the chain as he pulls it away. He stands back up and dangles it in front of his eyes. "A vlaric heart, to be specific. Very rare."

I can't answer. I'm trying to push his foot off me, but he's way too heavy for me to move, far too strong.

Jakjak flicks his wrist up and catches the diamond in his hand. "So, it turns out there is nothing special about you after all. And here I thought I had figured out why Lord Van Bloot wanted you so badly. But no. Without this, you are just like any other Human. You bruise if struck, bleed if cut." He presses down on my body with his foot a little harder. "Pop if pressed..."

I can't breathe. I'm trying to gulp for air. If this keeps up, my ribs are going to snap. I dig my nails into his ankle, but nothing. And all of a sudden, the pressure lessens. I gasp for breath and groan in pain.

Jakjak scowls down at me. "You have no idea how much I want to kill you for this insult, Human."

I force a grin. "Pretty sure I do."

Jakjak bares his teeth and kicks my side. I double over from the kick, coughing and wheezing.

Jakjak drops to one knee and looms over me. "You know nothing, creature. You are a worthless, pathetic little bag of bone and flesh, waiting to be eaten by something stronger. It is only by the will of my lord that you still draw breath."

Still doubled over on the ground, I wheeze out, "You were named after a Danian."

Jakjak freezes. Nothing about his expression changes, nothing about his posture. He continues staring with furious eyes, but I can tell, inside, he is shaken. "...What did you say?"

I push myself to a sitting position, and Jakjak shrinks away from me, just a little. "Many solans ago, in Blackstone Desert, a clanless man and woman were rescued by a Danian explorer. A Danian named Jaquez. A child was born a solan later, a child they named after the Danian who saved them."

Jakjak bares his teeth, but his eyes are wide. "Atrapol. He told you."

"How would he have known? You never told him." In THIS lifetime, anyway. "You've never told ANYONE."

Jakjak backs away slightly. I can see his hands shaking. His breathing is getting faster and faster.

I try to push myself to my feet. The pain is too much, I can't. Instead, I say, "I know more, about your brothers. Two peoples roam Blackstone Desert, your people, and the people your kind call 'giants'. Batol is half-blood. Cirridus is a quarter-blood. You all assume that Danidavid is also half-blood, but he is a full-blooded giant, simply a runt."

"Stop talking," Jakjak orders, his voice trembling. He makes no move to force me to stop.

I'm not going to stop. The longer I speak, the better this will work. "Eade developed a relationship with an OverWorlder his clan took captive and is still haunted by that captive's murder. Falkroth wears as little metal as possible because he hates the sensation of metal on his skin. Galmedar drowned several men in their sleep before fleeing from his clan because they abused him."

Jakjak lurches forward a bit. "Silence." He still doesn't close the distance.

I jerk my head in the direction of the collapsed skeletal steed. "Hollow is absolutely terrified of those, and of what they are when alive."

"I said stop!"

Jakjak leaps forward and swings the back of his hand against the side of my head. I go down. I see stars. I feel Jakjak's hand close around the back of my neck and tighten slightly.

"I do not know how you know these things," Jakjak hisses, "but you will stop before I rip your tongue out."

I turn my face off the ground and spit out dust. "What? You find this humiliating?"

Jakjak's left eye twitch. "Humiliating?" His teeth clench together. "I will teach YOU some humility..."

Jakjak lifts me off the ground by my neck and pulls my tunic up, then wraps an arm around my bare stomach and squeezes me against his torso.

Jakjak hisses in my ear. "I was only told to bring you alive. What state you are in is my decision." He reaches down and starts to stroke himself. "You will beg for mercy by the time I am through with you."

I close my eyes. I'm not worried about the swelling beneath me, about the bloodlust in his voice. I'm focusing on the beating of his heart, fierce and pounding. I'm focusing on the strain of his lungs, breathing like the air is thin.

Jakjak is wrapped around me, skin to skin. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.

I win.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Stretched out above me is a shower of light. Blazing motes of light, falling past me softly, dropping through an endless void. Each of them a mind, a life, a soul.

Jakjak is scattering into the ether. I grab a hold on him, wrap him in my will, and force his mind and soul together.

"What is this? What have you done?"

I don't answer.

The rain of flame swirl around us, and a particular flame slows its descent to hover in front of me.

"Am... am I dying?"

No, Jaquez.

"Then... what?"

Jakjak only has the strength for one dive. I know exactly what to show him. I pour myself into the flame, deeper, further...

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

I woke up screaming again, on this latest of first nights. I am looking up at the ceiling of my bedchambers, and I know it to be true.

I can still see it. Still feel it. My last moments from before. That wretched Human stood over me, hate in his eyes and blood on his face. The sword in his right hand dripped with blood. My blood. Behind him was the traitor, and the rest of the traitors further still.

"Lord Van Bloot," the Human spat, "the next time you remember, remember this. Hundreds of times you've gone against me, and hundreds of times you've failed. Hundreds of times you've betrayed Perim, and hundreds of times your new masters abandoned you. See reason. Surrender."

I spat right back, "I refuse to bend my knee to you, Michael! Not now, not ever!"

The traitor placed a hand on the Human's shoulder, a hand wrapped in the armor of his new, blasphemous oath, black steel with copper trimming. "He never listens, Michael. Why try?"

Weakness filled the Human's eyes as he frowned. "Because it has to stop sometime, Atrapol." He raised his sword up.

"Perim has no need for a false god like you!" I had screamed as the Human brought his sword down.

I shake the memories from my mind. I still feel his blade across my gut, in my head. I stagger out of bed and stumble to my mirror. Untouched. Unharmed. Fresh and new, like every other second chance at vengeance.

I pluck my mechanical eye from its saltwater bath and press it into its socket, then wrap my furs around my waist. I must be quick. The traitor, the FIRST traitor, I must see if he remembers as I do this cycle. He is useless to me, a danger if he does, but if he doesn't... then maybe, just maybe...

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

My legs collapse as I hit the ground. I roll over and scramble to my feet, keeping my eyes on Jakjak the whole time.

Jakjak is still standing. His body is rigid, his hands reaching out as if to grasp something only he can see. His eyes are wide, his breath erratic.

"Can you hear me?" I ask cautiously.

Jakjak blinks. "Van Bloot. He... He..."

"He lied," I finish. "Atrapol did not betray you. Van Bloot did. He betrayed us all."

Tears fill Jakjak's eyes. "Atrapol..." He collapses to his knees and doubles over, clutching his stomach. "My patriarch... I am sorry. I am so, so sorry..."

Jakjak leans forward until his forehead touches the ground. His whole body shakes with each sob as he repeats himself, over and over.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	23. Waylay

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_Happy New Year, readers! I think two weeks is long enough of a break. Don't you agree?_

_I thought it would be my turn to write by now. Unannounced vacations suck._

_Chill, we'll get to you in due time._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Waylay**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Every new lifetime, I have to see familiar faces look at me like I'm a stranger. I can sometimes take a shortcut into their good graces since they are essentially the same people I remember from previous lives. Most of the time, though, there's just no easy way to get back to the standing I used to have with them.

Jakjak is quiet as we ride. He's back in his armor. I'm sitting in front of him, wedged between his legs and the front of the saddle, rope tied tightly around my wrists. I may have avoided violence earlier, but I'm definitely a long way away from earning Jakjak's trust this time around.

"We're not passing through Mount Pillar?" I ask.

Jakjak pulls the reins more, leading the skeletal steed further away from the trail. "The fewer interruptions, the better. And Mount Pillar is full of interruptions."

"I know where Jaquez is," I offer. "You can meet the Danian you're named after. Isn't that worth the detour?"

Jakjak says nothing, but I feel his body freeze up a little, see his hands tighten on the reins.

I persist, "You aren't the least bit curious?"

"It does not matter," he answers quietly. He presses an elbow into my shoulder, knocking me around a little. "I know what you are hoping to accomplish. I am bringing you to Gothos Tower, no matter what you say."

Well, time to change tracks. "What about bandits?"

Jakjak lets out a loud laugh. "Bandits in Danian territory? If those bugs have one thing going for them, it is how well they keep out unwanted pests like bandits."

I nod. "Yeah. Unwanted pests."

Jakjak is silent for another while. "You are saying that there are bandits in these lands the Danians ignore."

"Sometimes."

"Hmm..." He whips the reins, and the skeletal steed trots faster. "Human bandits. The Danians would not suffer an UnderWorlder to poach their lands, but you Humans, you have no home. I could see a blind eye being cast on your kind, yes."

"Does Van Bloot tolerate Humans around Gothos Tower?"

"...No," Jakjak says slowly. "We were ordered to destroy them all."

I already knew the answer, but I can't help but shudder.

Jakjak notices. "I do not think you will share their fate, Human. If my Lord wished you dead-"

"He would have ordered you to kill me on sight instead. Yeah, I know." I sigh and rub my eyes as best I can with bound wrists. "I know why Van Bloot wants me."

Jakjak pulls on the reins, and the skeletal steed stops. "...Does he know about that... thing? The vision you showed me?" I feel him shiver behind me. "That is a terrifying power you have. Yes, that makes sense. If he knows about it, then, of course, he would want it."

"So you see why I can't let him get me," I continue. "I know you're thinking about your brothers, but what chance do you think you'll have once Van Bloot sees that you've spoken to me? That you saw those memories of his? You'll be as hunted as Atrapol. And I don't think Bloot would stop at sending one..."

Something's not right. Jakjak has been still for way too long. I lean against his arm. Stiff. His whole body moves with my push without resisting.

Shit.

I hook my heels against the skeletal steed's saddle and bend my knees, sliding until I'm lying down on its back. I hear a faint whizzing, see a blur pass where I had been sitting. I see an arrow shaft sticking out of Jakjak's torso, out of his unarmored waist. Freaking stupid armor design.

I have another few seconds before that weapon can be reloaded. I roll sideways, away from where the dart came from, and hit the dirt on the far side of the steed. "Hoof check!" I shout, and it lifts the leg closest to me. A slide of the ropes along its hoof and my wrists are free.

I spring to my feet, grab Jakjak's leg, and pull. He crashes down in front of me, and I hear another faint whiz get cut short with a thunk as another poisoned arrow collides with the Underworlder. I hope that hit armor and not flesh.

"Sorry about that," I mutter to Jakjak's frozen face as I roll him toward me and stick my hand down the front of his armor. "And for this, too." I grab my vlaric heart from around his neck and pull, snapping its chain for the second time today.

No time to fix the chain. I grip the diamond in my right hand and feel the earth around me. A raise of my left hand and a wall erupts from the ground, breaking our attackers' line-of-sight."

A distant voice cries out, "What the hell?! I told you to hit the red guy first!"

"I did!" replies a different voice. "I swear I did!"

Humans. I tighten my grip on the diamond. They're just trying to survive, same as me, but it's me or them. I look down at the heart. The light in it is dim, maybe one more trick left. I better make this count.

I raise my voice as much as I can. "I gotta admit, you're a nice shot! But I'm going to have to ask you guys to leave me alone, or I'll kill the lot of you!"

"You're in no position to be making threats!"

That was the same voice who claimed he'd hit Jakjak with his first shot. I raise my left hand in front of me with fingers curled, then clench my fist.

There's a sound of twisting earth and snapping bone. The archer's companions cry out in alarm and fear as a large stone mouth erupts from the ground and devours him whole, him and his weapon. Sorry, whoever you are, but your story ends there.

The diamond is opaque and empty. They don't need to know that. "I'll ask you guys again! Leave us alone, or I'll kill you all!"

A voice cries out, "Rush him!"

Well, shit. Jakjak's hands are still gripping the skeletal steed's reins tightly. He doesn't carry any weapons, and my weapon is dry.

I crawl over Jakjak's frozen from, under the steed, and press my back against the stone wall I made. I listen for the footsteps coming closer.

Three, two, one.

I swing my fist out past the wall. Fist against face, a nose cracking, a scream of pain. Footsteps behind me, I twist and kick to the side. My heel against an attacker's stomach. A sting of pain that quickly numbs. Damn it.

The world wobbles around as my body freezes, and I fall forward to the ground. There's a Human doubled over, clutching his stomach. Another one with his hands on his face, blood leaking between his fingers. A jolt of pressure at my stomach forces the air from my lungs, but it doesn't hurt.

"Calm the fuck down!" someone says, pulling the guy who kicked me away. He sounds so far away.

My attacker's face is twisted with rage. "He killed Zachary!" Tears are running down her face. "He killed him!"

"Listen, listen." The first human shakes the woman by the shoulders. "I get that you're pissed, but the Danians aren't going to buy damaged goods, yeah? He's going to get what's coming for him, don't worry."

Another voice comes from behind me. "I don't think the big guy's breathing."

Oh no. Not Jakjak.

"Well, strip that one down, hopefully the armor's worth something. Maybe they'll buy the body, who knows, or we'll save it for if hunting comes up short."

The fingers of my right hand are forced open. "Hey, look at this! A gemstone? Pierre, this look familiar?"

"That might be a diamond of vlaric. In the game, you sacrificed them to give a creature earth attacks for a turn."

"Oh. How does it work?"

"Beats me, but this asshole will have already used it. Might be worth something still though."

"Oi, he's still conscious!"

A shadow fills my vision as a foot rushes up to my face.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_Michael._

_Yes?_

_How many weeks has it been now?_

_Four._

_Michael._

_Yes?_

_You need help._

_Yes._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	24. Wares

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Wares**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

The soft, quiet darkness is interrupted by a bright light in my left eye. I flinch and try to turn my head away, but it's like trying to move through cold syrup. Now the light is shining into my right eye. Rude.

"...possible it has been given too high a dose..."

The light's in my left eye again. I'm going to tell whoever that is to leave me alone so I can sleep. Once I figure out how to move my mouth.

"...irregular pupil dilation is also consistent with a concussion..."

Right eye again. I'll give you a concussion if you don't knock it off. My arm isn't listening.

There's a different voice now. "Pierre says you've got something that might be able to get him fit for market."

The first voice again. Something... not quite Human about it. "A Minor Flourish mugic would certainly do the job. It will cost you, of course."

The light's gone. I can see again. Kind of. Danian in front of me, his big red bug face in my own face. Way too close. I try to push him away, but my arms are stuck behind me.

"Five percent of his sale price," says the Human voice behind the Danian.

The Danian turns. I'm looking at the back of his head now. "I do not think you understand the value of a mugic casting, Human."

"I don't think you understand how much this guy is worth to your people. I can spin quite the sales pitch."

The Danian turns back to me. He's rolling his large, amber eyes. "You think throwing an overweight adult in with the rest of your wares will make the adult more enticing to a buyer?"

"Do you know why he's all chained up like that?"

Chained up? Oh. That... that explains a lot. And is that a muzzle on my mouth?

The Danian squints and looks up and down at me. "It cannot possibly be so dangerous to warrant these restraints."

The Human's voice sounds irritated. "Trust me, you guys pop one of those parasites into him, and he'll be worth twenty mandibles in a fight."

"Mandiblors."

"Yeah, whatever."

The Danian's mandibles click together a few times, and his antennae trace around my face. "Is this your explanation for the injuries your group has sustained?"

"It was a nightmare bringing him in." A spitting sound. "Burned through a day's dose of paralytic poison in two hours, put up a fight while only halfway conscious-"

The Danian snorts. "It sounds to me that you were not careful with your tools."

"Yeah, whatever. I know what I saw."

The Danian's eyes look at each of mine in turn. "Ah, it seems it is awake. Let me show you how to properly administer the appropriate chemicals."

A sting in my neck and the world fades out again.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"I can confirm the Human's claims."

My head isn't swimming like last time, and my thoughts are clear. Must have gotten that mugic cast while I was out.

The Danian voice continues. "This creature did indeed metabolize the low-grade poisons much faster than others of its species, and it was able to act and defend itself somewhat while merely semiconscious. I do not know if this is purely a resistance to the hunting poison, or if this particular Human has resistance to poisons in general."

And now there's a blindfold in addition to the chains. Great. I try to loosen it with my eyebrows. Nope, whoever tied this knew what they were doing.

A different Danian voice, lower and rougher, replies to the first one. "That makes the high price at least make more sense."

A Human's voice, the same one from earlier. "Then we have a deal?"

A bark of laughter. "Keeps those reins taut, Human. I still need to examine the merchandise, and besides that, the boss has the final say."

I feel a large hand grab around my arm and squeeze a little, then slide up to my shoulder. "Do Human muscles not grow with training?"

"They do," says the other Danian.

"Which means this Human demonstrated that strength with little to no conditioning. Interesting."

The hand slides to my chest. Where's my tunic? Those fingers are touching bare skin. I try to squirm away.

"Steady heart rate. A little high." A chuckle. "To be expected, really." The Danian pinches and squeezes my chest a little. "A lot of hair on it."

"It is an adult male of the species, not an adolescent."

"I see. That is actually good news."

"What?" the Human and the other Danian say in unison.

"Ah, you were out here advising the hunters, so you would not know." The Danian chuckles and pokes at my stomach. "I see that we would not have needed to make so many preparations for assimilation."

The other Danian voice growls, "Tell me what is going on."

The fingers stop prodding at me. "You heard about that registry plan, right? Boss thinks that will make the usual methods of collection dry up quickly, so instead of simply selling off the adults, why not breed them?"

I hear the Human choke a little. "Wait, I don't think I need to hear any of-"

"Brilliant!" interrupts the other Danian. "A stroke of genius indeed. However, the boss is not by any means a biologist. Are you certain it was he who came up with the idea?"

"I do not know, and I do not care. I simply follow orders. So, does this Human have what it takes?"

I inhale sharply as the Danian's large hand abruptly starts rubbing my groin. I try to struggle away, but again, the stupid freaking chains!

"Holy shit," mutters the Human.

The Danian whistles. "A little above average length and girth. Now I wish I could purchase this one myself. Imagine the size of it post-assimilation." He lets go of me. "I will inform the boss about- Oh, Boss. I was about to get you."

There's no response. The silence stretches for a long time. Finally, the third Danian speaks, and ice shoots through my body at the sound of his gruff voice.

"Remove its blindfold."

The blindfold comes off. Standing in the doorway, lit by torchlight, is a tall, light-blue Danian. His muscles are large and tense, but his exoskeleton is smooth, unlike a soldier's. Two of his four arms are folded over his chest, one is on his hip, and the other rests against the doorway.

The creature's yellow eyes narrow as they lock with mine, and a grin forms on his face. "So..." He takes his weight off the door frame and steps forward. "What do we have here?" Another step forward, exaggerated, muscles rippling deliberately.

My heart is beating fast, trying to fly out of my chest. I can't turn away because of these chains, can't try to run.

The large Danian pushes the examiner to the side and kneels in front of me. He places his hands on my shoulders and squeezes a little. He leans in close and breathes softly into my ear, tongue flicking at it a little.

"Prince Osiris of Al Mipedim," he whispers. "King Rha of the Broken Edge. Inquisitor All-Sight. Hero of the M'arrillian War." He slides his face into my vision and grins. "But you aren't any of those names right now, are you?"

The Danian suddenly presses his mouth over my mouth and nose. I squirm and try to twist away as his tongue forces its way into a nostril. Suddenly we part, and I gasp for breath through my nose. Through... both nostrils.

The Danian fishes a small stone from his mouth and grins wide. The spying ear. He holds the device between two fingers in front of my eyes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you again, Michael," the Danian breathes as he crushes the stone effortlessly.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	25. Familiar

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_Being sick sucks. But I'm back._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Familiar**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Two cages on wheels, and a huge beetle to pull each. The Danians who came to purchase were expecting a haul it seems. One of the cages is packed, Humans shoulder to shoulder, practically sitting on each other. Some of them are screaming, some are begging, and some are quiet and resigned. It's still getting loaded, and some Humans make a break for freedom when the door is opened to load the next purchase in. Nobody has managed to escape.

The other cage is almost empty. Just me in there, wrapped up in chains, muzzled and immobile. The Danians give me an odd stare, but leave me and the cage alone. Boss's orders, this Human rides alone.

"You should feel flattered," the boss Danian says. "A whole space, just for you. Go on, stretch your legs, plenty of room to walk around." He cackles to himself as he leers at me through the bars.

I glare at him. At the ring of keys hanging from a cord around his neck. So much I could say, not all of it smart, except for this damned muzzle.

The blue Danian laughs louder, and he reaches through the bars. "As glorious as the silence is, I want to hear you beg." He grabs the cage of metal around my mouth and pulls me closer with it, then pulls the keys off from around his neck and fiddles with the muzzle's lock. "Who knows, maybe I'm feeling merciful."

The muzzle comes off, and I jerk my head away. I open my mouth and stretch my aching cheek muscles.

The Danian loops the keyring's cord back around his head. "Better, right? Tell me how much you appreciate it, Michael. I might decide to take the chains off, too." He grins wide. A familiar grin.

I grin right back. "So, couldn't come up with a better alias than just Boss this time around? You usually have more imagination than that. Or do they know you're name is Elco, and they call you Boss just to stroke your ego?"

Elco blinks. His mouth opens and closes, and his mandibles click together. Finally, he manages to say, "What?"

I grin wider, showing my teeth. "Seriously, this is a step down from last time. That time was scary, but here, I'm just a defective Weeble Wobble."

Elco opens his mouth to speak again, but confusion has robbed him of his voice.

"You know." I lean over and fall heavily on my side. "Weebles wobble, but they don't fall down? Ah, that's a Human thing, you wouldn't understand."

Elco shakes his head, then glares at me and hisses, "You need to take your situation seriously."

I raise my eyebrows. "But I am. As seriously as the situation warrants, anyway."

The Danian's eyes narrow. "I'm warning you, stop this nonsense or-"

"Or what?" I interrupt. "You're a one-trick pony, it's all about your penis and shoving it either down my throat or up my butt." I put on a dramatic frown. "Seriously, it's like you lose a few brain cells every time you look at me."

Elco looks about ready to throttle me, but an underling interrupts his train of thought. "We've got everything loaded, Boss. Ready to head home."

Elco glances at his fellow Danian, then back at me. "Good." He moves around to the back of the cage, unlocks the door, and steps in.

"Sir?"

Elco locks the door and tosses the other Danian the keys. "Hold these and head for Mount Pillar. I have business here to attend to."

The Danian slowly nods, confusion still on his face as he heads for the beetles. Elco watches him for a moment, then turns his attention back to me.

"You speak as if you have the power in this situation." He steps forward, looming over me, a hateful glare in his eyes.

The cage jolts as the beetles start moving. I look up at Elco from my position on the floor. "Well, last I checked, I did."

Elco spits and folds all four of his arms, but I see worry creeping into his expression. "High words for a man lying helplessly before me."

"Oh, this is a temporary thing," I grin. "We both know that by the end of this day, I'll have you begging for mercy."

Elco's flabbergasted face is a delight to watch. My nerves are shot, though. It's taking all my focus to keep the fear and stress out of my voice. Fortunately, Elco seems to have withdrawn. He sits down and leans against the back of the cage, scowling at me silently.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

One of the wheels needs work. The cage has been jolting regularly for a while now. How long has it been, anyway? I've just been staring at Elco and counting the bumps. At least, I used to be. Stopped at three-hundred-something a while back. Also, I think my legs are starting to fall asleep.

Elco breaks the silence suddenly. "As seriously as the situation warrants?"

I paste my grin back on my face. "He speaks!"

The Danian's eyes harden. "And if you don't knock it off, you won't be able to anymore-"

I cut him off with a fit of forced laughter. "And here's the tongue-cutting threat! Which you've never followed through with, might I add."

I can see Elco's muscles tense, his hands clenching, the gritting of his teeth, the shaking of his mandibles and antennae.

"Because you know what happens if you hurt me," I mutter, low enough that he'll have to strain to hear me. "One screwup and you have to start all over again."

One of Elco's eyes twitch, and he is on top of me. A snap of metal, and some of the chains are broken. My legs scream as my veins fill with pins and needles, but I grit my teeth and continue to glare at the bug above me. I'm not close to free yet, my arms are still bound.

Elco tosses aside the broken chains and presses me to the floor of the cage, a hand on each shoulder and a third on my chest. "You talk big, but your heart is beating solans in seconds," he hisses. A smirk slowly creeps back onto his face. "You're frightened of me still. I'll break you in time."

He's right, my heart is hammering. My lungs are burning, begging me to breathe quickly, to give me the strength to fight this monster off. I watch Elco, though, the rise of his chest, the air from his mouth.

"Out of words, Michael?" Elco laughs and lowers his face to mine. "That suits me fine."

I cringe away from Elco's tongue as he starts to slide it against my face. Warm, rancid air pours from his mouth. I force myself to match its tempo. Breathe in. Breathe out.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

From an infinite sky to a bottomless void, strings of light are pulled taut. Each one the memories of a being. They're not important, though. I haven't come here to see anyone's past. I'm more interested in the void between.

I let go of Elco, pushing his mind away from mine, and he drifts away.

And does not come apart.

I hear him crying out in alarm and fear, yes, but he's... shielded. Protected. Buried in his mind is a pinprick of light, holding him together.

Intriguing. Also, very, very bad news.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Elco's face is above mine, twisted with a mixture of a furious scowl and a triumphant grin. "Don't ever try that again, Human," he hisses before swiftly dropping his head to meet mine.

Stars flash in my vision, and a high note rings in my ears. Somewhere in my scattered senses, I feel a pressure build up inside me.

I blink away the colors and the dizziness. Elco is over me, a pair of hands on my shoulders and another pair lifting up my knees, hips rocking as he invades me. His tongue is hanging from his mouth, and his eyes are wide and wild.

"Cry my name," Elco orders.

As if. "You know that I'm going to kill you again, right?"

Elco narrows his eyes, and he gives a violent thrust. "I'll teach you to fear me properly."

The pain keeps me from speaking for a bit. It's taking all my focus to keep my eyes open. I can feel tears dripping down to my ears.

After a few moments, I manage to speak. "You have no idea what you're actually dealing with."

"I know enough," Elco hisses, as he removes his hands from my shoulders and wraps them around my neck.

He squeezes, not enough to hurt, but enough that my vision blurs and starts to fade. I grin at the crazed ant as I slip out of consciousness.

He's got something that belongs to me. That little point of light. And I'm going to... make him... give... it... back...

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	26. Observe

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_You're starting the next chapter this soon? It's past midnight._

_..._

_Do I have to get everyone else in here? Do you need help?_

_No, I just need to move this stupid story past this fucking bug._

_Michael, calm down._

_I am calm. I just don't want the last piece of writing everyone sees for the next who knows how long being of that sick fuck getting the better of me._

_We're putting this above the chapter title, Michael._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Observe**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

...I've got a pounding headache. I can't massage my temples because my arms are chained up. I ache everywhere. I feel disgusting.

Awareness is returning, slowly. I'm on my side. The cage is not moving. At the destination, or a stop along the road? Shouldn't open my eyes, play unconscious a while longer, might overhear something.

Ugh, being unconscious as often as I have been recently has got to be bad for my health.

Behind me, a growl of frustration, a wordless snarl, then a crash, like a fist hitting metal.

"Boss? Is everything-"

"Shut up!"

Okay, I'm facing away from them. I can risk a peek. I open my eyes ever so slightly. Vision's blurry, but it's coming into focus.

Yup, not at Mount Pillar yet. I'd have to be out for an unreasonable amount of time anyway. Ugh, focusing is hard, I wish I could shake the cobwebs out.

The other cage is across from me with its Human cargo. The people in there are huddled together. A few look like they've been crying. Some keep glancing at me, looking concerned or confused.

"Boss-"

"I keep seeing that fucking smug grin!" Another crash of metal, and the cage I'm in shakes on its wheels. "Two weeks in, he falls right into my grasp, and he fucking grins at me!"

Good, I've ruined this little triumph of his. In a perfect world I would never have to deal with Elco, but spoiling his fun is a close second. Or, no, not really. There's a lot that I'd rather go through than that bug having his way with me.

One of the captive Humans, an older man with graying hair, glances back at me. His lips move, and the Humans near him turn to look as well. Guess they can tell I'm awake.

"Boss!"

"What?!"

"Not even the ancestors know what has you in such a state! If it troubles you so, just get rid of it! You have plenty of other choices-"

"It must be him," Elco hisses. "If it's not him, then it doesn't matter."

"And now you are beginning to sound like one of those Humans. Where are you going, we are not done here!"

Elco and his underling's voices grow more distant behind me. The Humans look past me with wide eyes, their gazes occasionally flicking toward me.

Do I risk it? Now or never. As loudly as I dare, I breathe, "How many bugs are still nearby?"

The Human who had first noticed that I was awake glances around. He hisses, "They all set up camp further down the road, except for this one driving our cart. I don't think they wanted to be around the big blue guy."

Good, space to breathe, space to plan. "What's your name?"

The Human raises his eyebrows a little. "Ivan. I know yours. The big guy, um, shouted a lot."

I flash a grin. "Nice to meet you, Ivan. You're now the leader of everyone in that cage. We're going to get all of you to safety."

"Um."

Ivan looks a little overwhelmed. The rest of the Humans at staring slack-jawed at me.

I interrupt his moment of bewilderment. "Ivan, listen. You're all going to make it, okay? Are you ready to work with me?"

"I... Yes." Ivan nods. "Yes, I am."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Good, good. How many people are in there with you? Anyone hurt?"

"Forty-two. Five of them are children. None of us have been touched since we were put in here, it was only you."

Alright, good news so far. "Your driver, what does he look like? What's he got on him, or within easy reach?"

Ivan turns and starts muttering to the people around him. The Humans rustle around a bit, and one of them slowly stands up and creeps to the front of their cage, out of my view. After a couple nerve-wracking minutes, she shuffles back into view.

"Brown shell. Two arms, four legs. Bit of a beak to his mouth. Red vest, keys on a rope around his neck. On the seat next to him is a- I think it's a weapon. Copper, kind of shaped like an oversized old-fashioned key without teeth. A bunch of lights in the shape of a circle and a glass ball filled with... water?"

I can't use that description to pin down who exactly the driver is, but he's got a liquilizer. "Would someone be able to get the weapon?"

The woman grimaces. "I think maybe one of the kids might. The leg-cuffs don't tighten, so maybe-"

I shake my head. "Out of the question. Is the weapon secured to anything?"

"No."

There we go. "What about my cage? Anything in the driver's compartment?"

Ivan speaks up again. "Just a box the big guy keeps opening and closing. There's this brown crystal ring inside, the big guy looking at you while turning it over in his hands."

Terrifying, but good to know. "Okay then. Now for the beetles."

"I didn't get a good look-"

I shake my head again. "No, you're fine. The beetles have voice commands in addition to the reins. The command to sprint is 'adey', and the command to stop is 'rubo'."

Ivan and the closest Humans stare at me incredulously. "Huh?"

I grit my teeth. "And the command needs to be shouted, top of your lungs. Practice with me. 'Adey' means go, 'rubo' means stop."

Ivan nods. "I've got it."

"To run, you say?"

"Adey."

"To stop?"

"Rubo."

"Good." I take a deep breath and let it out. "Are we still clear?"

Another glance around. "I think we're good."

I grit my teeth. "The weapon fires water from the barrel. Squeezing the handle is the trigger. The lights show the temperature of the water when it's fired, and you press on a light to turn it off and decrease the temperature. Press again to reverse it. The glass ball shows how much water it has left in it."

"Water?"

"At the lowest temperature, it's basically as powerful as a normal gun." No need to get into the complicated stuff a liquilizer is capable of right now.

"What else do you need?"

"That's everything." Another deep breath, calm my nerves. "Here's the plan. The big guy, his name's Elco. When Elco starts coming back from his tantrum, everything needs to happen very fast."

Ivan nods slowly. "Why wait for when he's coming back?"

"I'll get to that. First, someone needs to sit up front and grab that weapon as soon as it gets in reach."

The woman nods. "I've got that."

"Alright. When you have that, slap those lights, turn them all off, then shoot the driver."

She cringes. "O-okay..."

I smile as warmly as I can manage. "I understand, it sucks, but it's you or him."

"A-alright then. Then what?"

I grit my teeth and continue my explanation.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. Time is stretching on and on. Have I misjudged? No, Elco is definitely going to come back.

I've rolled over to face the other way. Ivan is joining me looking out where Elco had gone initially, while the others are watching everywhere else. The silence is only broken by the occasional snore from the Danian in the driver's seat.

There. There he is. He looks calmer. And covered in yellow fluid. The Danian that had followed him... no, don't dwell on that. It's almost time.

I glance back at Ivan. He and the people closest to him look back, anxiety in their eyes. I nod, and Ivan nods back.

I turn back to face Elco as he approaches. I hold up three fingers behind my back. I hold up two. One.

At the top of our lungs, Ivan and I bellow, "Adey!"

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_Actually, you didn't react this way after the chapter with Chaor._

_Because Chaor didn't know any better. __Elco does know better, and he never learns, never changes. It's always the exact same thing. Out of everyone in Perim who's against me, I'm sick of him the most._

_More than...?_

_Yeah._

_I see._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	27. Action

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Action**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

"_Grab that weapon as soon as it gets in reach."_

The beetles bolted at Ivan and my command, pulling the cages forward and sending everyone and everything unsecured sliding toward the back. I hit the back bars of my cage, and the box Ivan had mentioned earlier falls through the front bars and tumbles towards me, hitting me in the chest. There's a bit of good luck there.

"_When you have that, slap those lights, turn them all off, then shoot the driver."_

"Rub-augh!"

Somewhere ahead of me, the driver of the other cage screams out in pain. I see him briefly tumbling on the ground between the cages, trailing shards of ice and spraying yellow blood.

I curl around the box and roll over it a little until I'm facing the cage's wooden floor. I raise my chained wrists above me as high as I can manage, pulled apart as far as possible.

"_After that, shoot at my chains." "I-I don't know if I can-" "Just do it."_

A whistle of air, a crack of metal, a flash of pain, a cry of alarm. My arms are free, but my right hand is screaming.

I push myself up with my left hand and glance around. The woman has her hands over her mouth. The liquilizer is sliding along the other cage's floor, and Ivan grabs it before it can slide past him. I look down at my right hand. A huge open wound runs across my wrist, frozen slightly, still bleeding.

I feel ice try to crawl its way up my spine. No, no, I need to focus. I tuck the box under my right armpit and then squeeze my right wrist with my left hand. I steal a glance back, at Elco struggling to catch up with us.

Ivan gives me a pained look as he aims for the beast.

"_Finally, shoot the beetle pulling my cage." "What?"_

He squeezes the handle, a spear of ice flies from the barrel of the weapon, and the cage jolts. I tumble back across the cage's floor, this time crashing into the bars in front. My body screams with pain, my wrist especially. Blood is everywhere.

"_Elco wants me more than he wants you." "...That's why you want him to see us before we start."_

Elco stops at my cage and leans against the bars, breathing heavily. The other cage continues along the road, Human cargo in tow.

In the most furious tone I can manage, I scream, "You son of a bitch! We were in this together, you backstabbing fuck!"

Elco yanks on the back door of the cage, which creaks and groans before giving way. The exhaustion on his face gives way to perverse glee as he steps in and approaches me.

"Did the other Humans take advantage of you, Michael?" Elco taunts as he crouches over me. "Not used to being a nobody, yeah?"

I bare my teeth and growl at the Danian. I let go of my wrist and grab the box I tucked under my arm. I flip the top open with my thumb, scoop its contents out, and brandish it at Elco. "St-stay away from me," I snap.

Elco's eyes briefly follow the ring of brown crystal I'm waving at him, and he erupts into laughter. "All out of ideas, too. That's so pathetic that it's almost-"

His eyes catch my right wrist, and he freezes. I look down as well, and I gasp as if it was the first time I had seen my injury.

"Oh," I mutter. Then I let myself slump over and start breathing rapidly. The frost on the wound is fading, and the bleeding is starting to get worse.

Elco swoops down on my and rolls me onto my back. "Shit, shit, no! You aren't getting away from me that easily!" Two of his hands wrap around the cut and squeeze while he looks around with panic in his eyes.

I grin and shudder dramatically. "Well... guess I screwed this lifetime up..." I bare my teeth and force a cough. "Two weeks... Not my shortest attempt-"

Elco's face twists with fury. "You're not dying, you little fuck." He glances at the ring of crystal I'm now holding loosely in my left hand. "Don't ever think you can escape from me," he hisses as he wrenches the ring out of my grip with his other two hands.

"_You want to get caught." "We have unfinished business."_

Elco closes his eyes and holds the ring to his chest. "Powers of Perim, answer my call!"

I widen my eyes and whimper, "No, please..."

The Danian ignores me. He lets go of the ring of crystal, which slowly begins to float into the air. "Make this creature the perfect servant for me!"

I grab one of Elco's wrists and weakly shake at it while forcing a sob.

A glow begins to surround Elco. He lets go of me, stands up, and holds his arms out. "Perfect this body, bone, flesh and all!"

I grab the bars of the cage and slowly pull myself to my feet. "Don't..."

Elco looks down and me and grins. A ghostly shape rises from his body and swirls into the empty space within the ring. "Visit upon it the might of you Infectious Melody!"

The ring shatters. Magical music fills the air, and blue crystalline magic begins to spread above Elco.

Elco's grin falters as I grin right back at him.

I spring up, leaping at Elco. My left hand grabs the top edge of the shell of his chest, my feet land on the shell of his stomach, and I spring off him higher, into the mass of mugical sound and light.

I'm already changing. Skin hardening, turning blue. Points of pain in my waist and forehead as arms and antennae begin to sprout. It doesn't matter, though. I can see my goal.

Descending back toward Elco is that ghostly figure. A mugician, white in body, the light drained from its form. I reach out toward it as Elco screams in rage. The mugician changes course as it brushes against my hand, and I feel a rush in my veins and a charge through my nerves as it slips into my body.

Hello again. Miss me?

I hit the ground hard. Elco bellows again and kicks me in the stomach, but I'm beyond feeling it. My mind is starting to fragment under the mugic. Being twisted to its own ends. Doesn't matter.

Elco doesn't remember everything. Prince Osiris. King Rha of the Broken Edge. Inquisitor All-Sight. Hero of the M'arrillian War. He called me a lot of names, but not the biggest one, one he would never have left out in his taunt.

He didn't call me a god... Which means he doesn't know... that someone near him... really belongs...

...to me...

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**_End of Act III_**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	28. Piabo - Reset

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_I thought my turn would never come around._

_Hush, you._

_Alright, guess that's the end of that chapter._

_I... Okay, yeah, sorry._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_**Act IV: Piabo**_

**Reset**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Michael has this little thing where the first words of all the parts involve him introducing himself with "My name is Michael," whether as a narration like at the beginning of the previous part or as something he actually said like at the beginning of the first part. Atrapol kind of copied him with his little "I am Atrapol" earlier too. Also, Michael's using the word "Act" instead of "Part" even though the latter really makes more sense. It's not a play structure, it's more like books in a series. And I think I've gotten a little off track.

Ah, fuck it. My name's Piabo. I'm a Danian. You Humans sometimes call us bug-people. It's not inaccurate. Specifically, I'm a mandiblor, part of the so-called "worker" caste of the Danian Hive.

I'm going to try my best to keep in mind that you're (probably) a Human while I'm writing, but if I mess up, don't worry. Michael's going to read my stuff before it gets posted. If Michael misses something, though, well, tough shit.

I'm not going to go through the whole description of what I went through before I caught up with Michael, but I will be starting on the first day of this "Reset". (Michael, make that the title of this chapter.)

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

One day, Humans arrive on Perim, and the world goes to hell.

Not immediately for most people. Most Humans across Perim will find their sudden circumstances bewildering, but not immediately disastrous. Most natives of Perim would be only inconvenienced by the new arrivals since the Humans have not yet started to find a foothold in their world. No, the world only immediately goes to hell for the unfortunate few, such as a young bug about to drift off to sleep.

The young bug is me, by the way.

I am wide awake in an instant, my mind suddenly filled with the memories of more lifetimes than I would have been able to count seconds earlier. I lay paralyzed as my physical brain rushes to catch up with a mind more complex than it is currently able to handle. I remember dying, over and over. I remember escaping death, over and over. I remember people that I've no longer met, events that no longer happened.

Step one: Don't panic.

This step is usually a lot easier. Most of the time I know it's coming, either because I'm dying slowly or because I know that the guy responsible for all of this just bit the dust. For all I knew, he was perfectly fine, so I didn't get the chance to get my panic out of the way ahead of time.

Step two: Bite something.

Last time I bit my arm. That wasn't a good idea. As soon as the feeling returns to my body, I scramble for the boundary around my nest and shove one of the wooden blocks into my mouth.

Step three: Block out everyone.

Danians have a power. Hivecall. Hivesense. Lots of flowery terms for it beginning with the word hive. Our thoughts and emotions are constantly reaching out to each other, generating a gentle hum or buzz of... of family, I guess. Even far from Mount Pillar, we're still connected. It's a warning signal, a communication line, a brain Internet of sorts. And I've been screaming into that buzz for the past few seconds.

I close my eyes. I strain my jaws and mandibles together. I reach out to it, that thing that makes me a Danian, the most important power one of us possesses...

...And I snuff it out.

I can hear again. Scrabbling of claws against the stone floor. Two creatures rushing into my room. Two Danians. Tanto, a mandiblor like me, and Mudo, a two-legged, four-armed battlemaster. My babas, my caretakers.

"Piabo! Are you alright?" It's Tanto. His antennae are vibrating, his arms trembling. Mudo mutely stares at me, worry clutching his throat.

Step four: Hide it.

I reach back out with the Danian power. The hivecall. I reach out to my babas, wrapping their minds in mine. I find the worry, the fear, the confusion.

I push.

My babas blink. The bodies relax a little, but not all the way. Something odd has happened, they can tell, but what?

I take the block out of my mouth and sit up. "Baba? What is wrong?" No apostrophes, not until I've spoken with a Human.

Tanto rubs his right eye. "I... Are you well, Bibi?"

"Tired," I yawn. Reach out, push away into the air how sleepy I am.

Mudo's mandibles quiver and he tilts his head to the side. "Are you certain? I thought I-"

Push.

"...I... What was it?" Mudo looks at Tanto, who shakes his head in a daze. "Apologies. Please, try and-"

Tanto and Mudo go rigid. I copy them. They're hearing the alert, the hivecall. Intruders in Mount Pillar, origin unknown. I would be hearing it too, but I've separated myself from it. Almost immediately after that will come an alert that the creatures are all over the Pillar. High alert.

Tanto and Mudo share a glance that lasts a moment and holds an entire conversation. Tanto rushes up to me, turns sideways, and brings his abdomen to his ankles, making a shield between me and the rest of the room. Mudo slips out of my room, and moments later returns carrying two curved swords, one held out to Tanto, one for himself.

"What is happening?" I ask, pushing out an aura of alarm and fear.

"Do not worry, Piabo," Tanto says, stroking my head with one hand while accepting the sword with the other. "Go back to sleep. Baba will sing you a song."

I curl up next to Tanto. "Oh..."

My babas watch the doors while Tanto sings.

"Little bibi digs a tunnel, see how far he goes.  
"Little bibi finds a baddie, bops it on its nose.  
"Little bibi, strong and witty, always doing more.  
"Little bibi, precious bibi, my dear mandiblor."

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_That was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I'm sorry for getting frustrated._

_I mean, I have an easier time of it. It's okay that you got upset that I took such a long time._

_Still._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	29. Check

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Check**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Day three since the arrival. The Humans have been identified as harmless and somewhat pathetic. Life is resuming as normal. Well, except that my babas have taken me to a physician.

"He has been acting a little... odd. Ever since those creatures showed up." Tanto is sitting on a bench, fidgeting. Mudo has already left, being security for a noble who really wants Humans off his property.

The doctor lifts me up on a table. "Odd how?"

"Increased appetite, scratching at himself, leaning against the walls, holding his antennae in his mouth..."

The doctor gently pats my sides with all his hands. It's uncomfortable, I can't help but squirm a little. "Your exoskeleton should have more give than that, little one," he says in... well, I guess it's supposed to be a soothing voice. Sounds a little patronizing to me.

Gotta remember that I'm not supposed to know certain words yet. "Exo-what?" I tilt my head and flick one of my antennae into my mouth to suck on it. Maybe I'm overplaying the part, but anything that gets pegged as unusual doesn't really have any context yet.

"Your shell." The doctor glances at Tanto. "On his eighth solan, I am guessing?"

"His ninth in three days." Tanto wrings his hands together and looks at me. "You excited, little bibi?"

It takes all my strength not to groan. It was bad enough early on. Usually, I was sixteen solans old at the start of each reset, but recently I've been starting younger and younger. So instead of a thousand or so solans in a child, it's that in a toddler. But I can't let any of that show.

I clap my hands. "I want a Human friend then, yeah?"

Tanto blinks. "I... I will speak to Mudo about that, okay?"

I make a childish giggle. "Thank you, Baba!"

Tanto sighs and shakes his head, and then my view of him is blocked when the doctor steps in front of me. He steadies my head with one pair of hands while carefully placing the other pair on my antennae. It hurts a little, and I flinch away at his touch.

"Increased sensory sensitivity," the doctor muses. "How exactly are you feeling uncomfortable, Piabo? Are you having trouble sleeping?"

I can be honest now, at least. "It feels like the blanket is wrapped too tight, even when I take it off."

"Where? Stomach? Arms?"

"All the places." I squirm a little. "Now too. Tight everywhere."

The doctor turns to Tanto. "I cannot be entirely certain at this stage, but it is possible that Piabo is undergoing some kind of accelerated growth. Let me get a light, I can explain easier."

The doctor moves to the back of the room and starts moving a large crystal with trailing wires. I watch him like any curious child would. "Big lamp," I mutter.

"Yes," the doctor smiles as he sets the lamp next to me, "very big lamp." He then grabs a large black bowl, almost like a helmet. "I need you to put this on your head and not take it off, alright?"

I tilt my head. "Why?" I already know why, though. I'm supposed to be this curious, right?

"This lamp is very bright, too bright for you to look at." The doctor sets the helmet on my head and shifts it around. "Are you doing well in there, Piabo?"

"It's heavy." Shit, wrong word.

He doesn't seem to have noticed, though. I feel the lamp starting to get warm next to me, and then the doctor's fingers pointing at my chest.

"Yes, see here? His lungs and stomach are a little large for a mandiblor his age." The touching moves to my abdomen. "Everything is a little larger than usual, in fact, and looking a little cramped. I suspect that the itching Piabo has been experiencing stems from his overshell trying to loosen more quickly than it would under normal circumstances."

"I did not think we were overfeeding him," Tanto mutters.

The heat vanishes, and the doctor lifts the helmet off my head. "This is not excess weight gain, and it is not your fault. While to see it in a mandiblor as young as Piabo is unusual, it is likely a stress reaction to the alarm state of the hive these past couple days. If anyone, you should blame those Humans and their sudden appearance."

"Trying to become fighting-ready," Tanto muses.

"Can I get down?" I whine.

The doctor takes me off the table and sets me down, and I trot over to Tanto and sit by his front feet. The doctor continues, "The best option for right now is to just wait and see. Perhaps give him a little something to chew on throughout the day, give him something else to focus on. If he starts molting and his undershell does not look completely developed, bring his to me or another medical expect immediately."

"Someone will need to keep an eye on him every moment of the day," Tanto sighs.

"He should be old enough to follow you throughout the day, yes?"

I pipe up, "I want to see you work, Baba!"

"There you have it," the doctor chuckles.

Tanto rubs my head. "I hope everything goes well, Bibi."

I wish I could honestly tell him that it will, but it won't. It really, really won't.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


	30. Outside

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_I hope everyone's staying safe with the virus floating around._

_There's no way Mount Pillar would survive an outbreak like you guys are going through. That's terrifying._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Check**

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Day five. I think. There's not exactly a sun down here, and most creatures in the Underworld don't have a sleep cycle that exactly matches with day and night in the OverWorld.

Anyway, lots of Danians are starting to realize that Humans can be useful. The average Human is not at all specialized towards any one kind of task, much like the mandiblor caste, meaning that many Danians are rushing to buy Humans of their own to help with work around the Pillar.

More workers mean more mouths to feed. More mouths to feed means more food needs to be delivered. A lot more.

Tanto is one of several mandiblors pulling a cart full of crates of food. Since "doctor's orders" means I can't be left alone, I'm tagging along while carrying a small basket of honey sticks. It's the usual method of keeping young bugs busy, to give them a small amount of the workload that isn't even a minor inconvenience if it gets lost or ruined.

"You can take one of them for yourself, Bibi," Tanto says, no hint of strain or effort in his voice.

I tilt my head to the side as if in confusion. "They said that these are for the working Danians that really needed it."

"And you are a working Danian that really needs it, yes?"

I nod and take one of the honey sticks out. It's as long as my forearm, and I can barely fit my fingers around it. I awkwardly tuck one end of it into my mouth and start gnawing on it.

Tanto's mandibles lift a little, a sign that he's holding in a laugh at how "adorable" I'm being. "Good, yes?"

"Itsh gud," I mumble without taking the candy out of my mouth.

A few of the other mandiblors chuckle and they turn their attention back to the tunnel ahead-

I force myself to act completely normal when I see him walking toward us. Four arms, two legs. Tall, muscular, light blue. It's Elco.

Elco is like me. Usually, he remembers other lifetimes. Sometimes he's not, and normally I'd need to experiment a little to know if that's the case. Not this time. Without the memories of past lives, Elco would have had little reason to be this close to the base of Mount Pillar.

Elco walks past the cart without giving it a second glance. I let him pass me a few steps, then turn around to follow him. I have to jog a little to catch up, his strides are much larger than mine. When I can see him, I reach out with my mind, tasting the hivecall he's letting out.

Nothing. Not a single sensation. It's like he wasn't there at all.

Elco is also "outside the hive" like I am. It allows him to present any kind of emotional signal, any persona, and even vanish from interest. It's his most powerful tool among his two professions. As a prostitute, he can change his aura to that of the ideal partner for those who buy his services. As a slaver...

Elco's aura shifts to a commanding presence, and a slightly heavyset mandiblor suddenly zips to his side. "Boss, you called?"

Elco speaks, voice deep and charming. "The Humans outside the Pillar that we dealt with some time ago. They sold us a dozen Human vagrants this morning."

The mandiblor blinks. "That is good news, I suppose. How were you so certain that they would follow through?"

"It is not important that you know," Elco says simply, a crooked grin on his face. I feel the aura around him shift, becoming thick and oppressive.

The mandiblor's eyes slide out of focus briefly. "Understood." He turns to leave, but stops with a jolt. "Boss. Someone is following you."

Elco turns and makes eye contact with me.

My blood starts to run cold. If he remembers me, that's it. I'll need to run for my life, find my babas, say anything that would get them to follow me. It's such a huge risk, but if he does remember, it's better that I know now than discover later when he makes his move first.

Elco glances up and down at me. His eyes pause at the basket. "I passed you and those hauling cargo some time ago. You followed me all this way?"

I nod and hold up the basket. "They said that these were for hard-working Danians. Like you."

Elco tilts his head at me. The mandiblor near him shudders, his eyes sliding out of focus, and he wanders away. Without looking back, Elco steps up to me and crouches so he's closer to my eye level.

"I was trying to stay unseen, little one," Elco says, slight amusement edging into his voice. "How did you see me?"

I make myself blink. "You are very big, sir. I do not see how I was supposed to not be able to see you."

Elco laughs a little. He gestures around us, at the Danians unconsciously stepping to the side not to run into us as they pass. "Tell me. Do others tend to ignore you? Has your baba ever told you that you will have to speak louder than most in order to be heard?"

"Yes," I lie. "He says I am hard to notice."

Elco grins. "You are like me, little one. Outside the hive. It is difficult to handle something like that on your own." He reaches out to me. "Perhaps I can help you with that."

I fight down the rising panic in my throat. Elco doesn't remember me, that much is certain. I need to capitalize on this.

I let Elco touch my head. I close my eyes and lean into his hand a little, tracing my antennae over his wrist like a child starved for attention. "You... you can?"

"It would not be free, of course," Elco says. "I have a lot to do, so I need someone to help me. If you help me, I will have time free to teach you."

I shudder a little as Elco's hand slides down to my shoulder. "Help you with what?"

"Carrying things to places, like you already do," Elco smiles, tapping the basket I'm carrying with another hand. "I would give you a list of things to get and where to get them from, and you would bring them back to me. That way I do not have to run around myself."

Someone who can collect less than legal things for him. That's why he wants me, just like every other time I manage to get into his business. "When do I start?"

Elco laughs. "Eager, yes? I will have a list tomorrow morning."

"Where?" I know where already.

Elco blinks. "Ah, right. Then a first lesson. Look at me, and try to touch my face without moving your hands."

I blink a few times as if confused. "Without moving... what?"

"Try. Trust me."

Slowly, as if I don't know what I'm doing, I reach out into the hivecall at Elco. My aura meets his, and in my mind, I see the layout of Mount Pillar, and a focus on one tunnel in particular.

I widen my eyes and gasp. "Whoa..."

"That is where I want you to meet me." Elco stands up and smiles down at me. "As soon as you have time after you wake, alright?"

"Yes, sir," I say while forcing a grin.

Elco nods, then turns and walks away. I let him vanish from sight, then collapse to my knees.

My hands are shaking. My mouth is dry. My blood is ice. At any moment I could have said too much, overplayed my hand. Elco would have no trouble with killing me if he felt it was necessary. Sometimes I envy Michael-

I give myself a mental slap. I need to get back to Tanto. He'll be heading for the East Gate.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

_Need a hug?_

_Yes, please._

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

**Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.**


End file.
